


Not Always Easy

by honeyMellon



Category: Bleach
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyMellon/pseuds/honeyMellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grimmjow and Renji are the most popular boys in Karakura High — hot, star athletes, best friends. Then in comes transfer student, Kurosaki Ichigo, and Renji finds himself instantly smitten. But, as the title suggests, it's not always easy. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everybody stilled as the white lump of cloth slid off of the messy head of powder blue hair down along the lean lines of a strong, long neck, and finally, with a dull thud, landed on the floor.

For a moment the hallway fell into stunned silence as all eyes zeroed in on the tall high school senior, who had stopped in his tracks. And then, slowly, the head turned.

"Abarai-fucking- _Renji!_ " the blue-haired teenager bellowed, baring his teeth.

A few feet away, another teenager was bent over at his waist, coughing and laughing like he'd just seen the best stand-up comedy in his life. His eye-catching red hair spilled over the top of his head as he wheezed, trying and failing to reel in his laughter.

"How old are you, man?" the one who got hit in the head grumbled as he stalked up to the redhead and threw the rumpled ball of cloth in his face. "Do you really have to do that every day?"

His red-haired friend grinned and straightened up. "Absolutely," he said, picking up the piece of cloth and smoothing it out into its original form. Satisfied that it was finally less crinkled, he folded the cloth into a long, thin strip and tied it around his head, partially covering his forehead. Once that was done, he flashed a bright, toothpaste commercial-worthy smile before landing a good solid punch on his friend's bicep.

"Idiot," the blue-haired one growled darkly, but one corner of his lips curled up involuntarily into a small smirk that only the redhead could see.

With that, the two boys strolled down the hallway towards class, oblivious to the amused stares and snickers from the other students.

* * *

Grimmjow scowled and shifted in his seat, his long legs bumping into the chair in front of him, immediately earning a glare from his bespectacled classmate. The size of the furniture in the classroom was entirely too small for him — with his six feet one stature, having to sit still within the confines of his desk and chair for hours on end was a daily ordeal.

Across the room, Renji wasn't faring much better; he looked cramped, his knees scraping against the bottom of the desk. Grimmjow couldn't help snickering under his breath at the sight of the disgruntled look on his best friend's face.

The two of them had known each other since...forever. There weren't many memories in Grimmjow's head that didn't include the spunky, loud-mouthed redhead. Their fathers were close friends, and they'd inevitably ended up as each other's playmates from a young age. The bond only strengthened over the years. They were quite the sight — one with light, baby blue hair that stuck out in a thousand directions, including a few strands that hung over his forehead; the other with long, red hair that tended to clash with everything the guy wore. They two were skinny — bordering on scrawny, even — and then puberty hit and they both shot up above average height, towering over most of their classmates at school.

So it was no wonder that they were both top athletes at Karakura High; Grimmjow was into basketball while Renji was the best soccer player on the school team. Their popularity was only dampened slightly by their collective cockiness and dirty mouths, and they could care less about it. It was always brothers against the world, and as long as they had each other, everything was fine and dandy.

Grimmjow looked up as the teacher waltzed into the room. His eyebrows arched when a boy he'd never seen before walked in behind Ochi-sensei. It wasn't so much that the boy was a stranger — it was the guy's obnoxious head of brilliant _orange_ hair. And there he thought he and Renji had drawn the short straws in the hair color department.

"Good morning, good morning, children!" Ochi-sensei sang with a smile that made her large eyes almost disappear behind her eye glasses. She rapped her knuckles on the blackboard until the class settled down, and then she gestured to the new boy. "Let's all welcome our new classmate, Kurosaki Ichigo! He's joining us from Tokyo, so be nice to him and make him feel at home, okay kids? Inoue-san, do you mind pulling up that desk...there we go..." Ochi-sensei pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and then handed a piece of white chalk to the new guy. "Do you mind writing your name on the board?"

Grimmjow was trying very hard not to laugh out loud; _Ichigo?_ The boy's parents must not like him very much to give him a name like that. Seriously, he almost felt bad for the guy if not for the scowl that was plastered on the orange-haired kid's face like everyone on the planet owed him an apology. It was a strange time to transfer to a new school, Grimmjow noted. It was already past the half year mark for that school year, and it was the last year of high school, he would hate it if _he_ had to go to another school at a time like this; having to leave behind all your friends so close to graduation, and not to mention having to adjust _and_ study for the most important school exam in your entire high school career. Yeah, perhaps the guy had the right to look so downright pissed.

He watched the kid scribble his name in kanji on the board, noting the rather interesting — and rather cool, if he was honest to himself — first name. And then the kid, Ichigo, made his way grumpily over to the hastily arranged desk next to Inoue Orihime and slid into his seat without so much as a glance at the girl. Grimmjow couldn't help feeling surprised; Orihime was easily the prettiest girl in school, with her bubbly personality and of course, generous helpings of breasts, and the new guy didn't even bat his lashes at the gorgeous sight next to him.

Grimmjow flicked his gaze across the room and caught the weird facial expression on his best friend. Renji was attracted to guys and had no qualms showing it, but _damn_ , Grimmjow didn't think he'd ever seen the guy gawking so openly at another man before. The redhead looked as if he had just swallowed a ball of gum, his eyes wide and glued on Ichigo. Grimmjow chuckled — looked like the new guy was in for a rough start. Renji was a stubborn bastard, and when that stubborn bastard liked something, he would do anything to get it.

* * *

_This is not fair._

Ichigo didn't usually sulk, but he sulked now as if his life depended on it. It wasn't fair that he had to leave his friends and his beloved hometown so suddenly. His old man couldn't even wait until he finished high school — that job offer at Karakura General Hospital had been a once-in-lifetime opportunity, or so the goat-face had said. Ichigo supposed it was true; his father had worked his ass off at a small clinic his entire life, the chance to be the deputy director of one of the best hospitals in Japan was not something he could simply pass up. It wasn't like Ichigo couldn't graduate from another high school, it just really, really sucked.

He missed his friends already — yes, even that silly-ass Yumichika, who stuck to him like a band-aid. And Ikkaku, Shuuhei, Izuru, Rukia... Ichigo gritted his teeth. He let his eyes roam the classroom. The school wasn't too shabby for a place in the middle of nowhere, and Karakura _was_ pretty much middle of nowhere for a city boy like him. The kids here even looked half-decent; there was this air-head sitting next to him who looked alright, and there was this giant of a man with wavy brown hair that covered half of his face. They looked friendly enough. The bespectacled guy with almost chin-length black hair though, not so much.

And then there were the two boys with hair color almost as ridiculous as his own. They sat at opposite ends of the room; one with spiky, powder blue short hair, and the other sported a ponytail the color of blood. They were _huge_ , although not as big as that wavy-haired guy. Ichigo wondered if it was something about the water in Karakura. He himself was muscular too, but in the lean sort of way, just like his old friends, while these guys were _ripped_ and tall.

Ichigo jumped slightly when he suddenly caught a skull-piercing stare from that redhead. The guy was looking at him with a lopsided grin, and there was something in those reddish brown eyes that made his skin crawl. If he didn't know better, he would've thought that the guy wanted to eat him alive.

* * *

"Did you see the ass on that one?" Renji asked, his face flushed in excitement as he leaned over the railing and looked at his best friend.

They were on the rooftop at their favorite lunch spot, and Grimmjow was looking at him with bored, half-lidded eyes that practically screamed "you're such an idiot" even as a corner of his lips lifted in a sly smile.

But Renji was too happy to care, he was still too occupied with the images of that transfer student. The school uniform molded around that long, lithe body like a piece of erotic lingerie, and the boy had graceful hands that looked like they could do many delicious, less-than-innocent things. The way those eyebrows pulled together and how those full lips pursed in a scowl just made Ichigo look even more irresistible, like a present surrounded by a sea of land mines waiting for Renji to unwrap.

And Renji _loved_ challenges with a passion.

"You don't even know if he swings that way," Grimmjow drawled.

Renji's grin faltered slightly, but then he immediately perked up again. "I know! You can test it out for me!"

Grimmjow's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Why me?" he asked with a frown.

"See, I calculated already," Renji said, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "You know in Chemistry class? How you're always paired with that tight-assed Ishida?"

Grimmjow grunted at the mention of his lab partner. "Yeah, so?"

Renji grinned. "Well, _I_ happen to know that he's scheduled for a national debate championship the week after next."

"So?" Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow, not understanding what that had to do with his friend's request to test the waters with Kurosaki Ichigo. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, how'd you know that?"

Renji looked flustered for a moment before saying, "That's not important, the important part is: lab partners are paired according to our last names, with Ishida gone, _you_ , Jaegerjaques-san, will be paired with _Kurosaki_."

Grimmjow rubbed his face with a groan. "Aww, that's just great," he muttered. As if dealing with that straight-laced model student wasn't enough, now he'd have to handle a new lab partner who looked like somebody had just stolen his favorite stuffed animal, _and_ he had to somehow find out whether the guy liked men? He must've been a baby killer in his past life.

"Come on, what are friends for?" the redhead nudged him in the arm with a shit eating grin on his face.

After what seemed like an eternity, Grimmjow finally said, "You know those Adizero Ghost 2.0 basketball shoes?"

"The new arrival that you were looking at on the adidas website? What about them?" Renji asked, confused.

"Yeah, those. I like 'em in Aluminum and Running White."

* * *

**To be continued...**

**Hopefully this makes you interested to know what will happen next! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

"Thirty minutes, boys and girls, thirty minutes," a smooth, haughty voice filled the room as the students ambled around the room to gather beakers, Bunsen burners, spatulas, and other equipment needed for the experiment they were about to conduct.

Ichigo slipped on a pair of large goggles over his eyes and brought a small glass beaker in front of his face for inspection. Finally satisfied that it was completely dry, he placed it back on the table and fussed with the Bunsen burner.

"This thing is so fucking stupid," a deep voice rang behind Ichigo, causing the boy to jump slightly.

He looked up and immediately frowned as his lab partner walked up to the table and slammed a pair of plastic goggles on the metal surface.

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaques._

He'd felt apprehensive when he found out that he was paired with this blue-haired giant for Chemistry lab, but seeing that he had no reason to dislike the guy, he had grudgingly accepted the arrangement. It wasn't like he had a say in it anyway.

Ichigo shifted aside to give the other teen enough space at their table. He eyed Grimmjow, taking in the ruffled blue hair that refused to obey the force of gravity and the strong, straight back that tapered off into the distinct V shape below the waist. He gulped, feeling suddenly very out of shape and short.

In other words, he felt absolutely intimidated.

"You seriously wearing those?" Grimmjow interrupted Ichigo's brief mental time-out with a rap of his knuckles on the orange-head's goggles.

Ichigo flinched back instinctively. "Yeah! We're supposed to! Ammonia is toxic!"

Grimmjow snorted as though he'd just heard a joke, but didn't say anything. Pushing the goggles aside, he placed two small glass containers next to Ichigo's beaker. Inside the containers were crumbly, white powder-like lumps — ammonium chloride and calcium hydroxide, the keys to their lab assignment of the day.

"Twenty eight minutes," their teacher intoned from the front of the lab, sweeping his eyes around the room from the top of his silver rectangular glasses that were partially covered by pale pink bangs.

"What an ass," Grimmjow muttered under his breath.

Ichigo frowned. His first impression of Granz-sensei was less than perfect, but cussing out a teacher wasn't really his thing, and he found himself more than a little bothered that his blue-haired lab mate had no such reservations. But he held his tongue and simply held out two spatulas, offering one of them to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow took it and stuck it into the container containing ammonium chloride.

"Two spatulas," Ichigo read from the instruction sheet. He carefully scooped up the same amount of calcium hydroxide from his container and dumped the content into the beaker. Then, he squinted at the paper and pursed his lips. "Drats. Forgot the calcium oxide."

He flicked his eyes at his lab mate, who ignored him in favor of chipping off bits of ammonium chloride. With a sigh, Ichigo left the table and went over to the counters at the side of the labs to get the missing ingredient.

It seemed like he'd been gone for only one minute, but by the time he returned to their table, Grimmjow had already mixed the crystals together in the beaker and was shuffling through the tiny pieces of Litmus paper that they'd prepared. Ichigo frowned. Was it his imagination, or did the mixed lumps look bigger than he'd expected?

"You should've waited for me," he grumbled.

Grimmjow grinned at him. "Ya don't trust me with a little bit of mixin'?"

Ichigo ignored the jab and held two pieces of Litmus paper above the beaker, one blue, the other red. The red one gradually turned blue.

"Hand me the test tube," Ichigo mumbled, holding out his hand.

"What am I, your maid?" Grimmjow growled darkly.

Ichigo huffed in exasperation. " _Fine_." He walked over to the other side of the table and grabbed one of the glass tubes.

Finally, after scooping, scooping, and more scooping, the entire mixture was stuffed into the test tube along with a small lump of calcium oxide, and Ichigo began to wrestle a stopper equipped with a delivery tube onto the test tube. Just as he tipped the tube to the side and reached for the retort stand, the Bunsen burner was shoved roughly under the tube he was holding.

"Thanks," Ichigo said absently as he worked the clamp around the test tube.

The Bunsen burner was soon working merrily, and Ichigo held another test tube, cupped upside down over the delivery tube, to trap the ammonia gas being produced as the mixture continued to react. Grimmjow made himself comfortable on one of the stools and stared at all the equipment with a bored expression.

"Since you're so bored, why don't you come hold this?" Ichigo sent his lab mate a glare, feeing annoyed that he was doing most of the work.

Grimmjow stared back with a smirk and, surprisingly, actually got off the stool and took over. Ichigo stood aside and watched.

The entire lab was filled with soft murmurs and occasional clinking of glass as the students raced to finish the assignment within the allotted time, which, Ichigo noted, was just ten minutes away. They were making good progress, and he relaxed his shoulders, feeling pleased.

Then, disaster struck.

Grimmjow's hand flexed abruptly as he suddenly let out a loud sneeze; the test tube that he had been holding knocked into the delivery tube, which in turn caused the other test tube to move. Ichigo stared in horror as things unfolded in front of his eyes. The retort stand was knocked off balance by the movement, and then as Ichigo's heart fell to the bottom of his gut, the entire apparatus slid off the lab table and crashed to the floor.

Almost immediately, the stench of ammonia reached his nose, and he staggered backwards, almost knocking the stool over in the process.

"Fuck!" Grimmjow yelled, darting away from the mess on the floor, which was still producing copious amounts of the foul-smelling gas. His eyes began to tear up, and he waved his hand in front of his face, swearing under his breath as he did so.

Their classmates began to step back from their experiments; some covering their noses, some coughing. The lab was very well ventilated and was perfectly safe for conducting this experiment, but the sudden release of the gas was still too much to handle all at once.

"Out!" Granz-sensei shouted in a tense voice. "Get out of the lab and go stand outside!"

The students quickly filed out of the lab, and Ichigo followed with a dark scowl on his face.

 _Stupid idiot!_ Now everyone's experiments were ruined, and Ichigo was certain that their Chemistry teacher wasn't going to let them off so easily.

* * *

Sure enough, after the lab was aired out and cleaned, Ichigo and Grimmjow were called to the teacher's office for a good lecture. As it turned out, Ichigo had been right. Not only had Grimmjow messed up by breaking the equipment — which technically was an accident, and Ichigo would've forgiven him if it weren't for the other problem — he had used _more_ than what they were supposed to.

 _I knew it!_ Ichigo screamed in his head as he stood silently in front of Granz-sensei's desk. The pink-haired teacher went on and on animatedly about how irresponsible they'd been.

 _It wasn't my fault!_ Ichigo thought miserably.

"Zero points for this assignment! Everyone else can redo it in the next lab session, but I'm giving you two _zero_. And you're going to take this as a lesson, do you hear me?"

Ichigo blinked. _What?_

"But —" he blurted, eyes wide in panic.

Granz-sensei smacked his palm on the desk. "No buts," he said firmly, shooting a glare at Ichigo, and then at Grimmjow, who simply shrugged.

"Sensei!" Ichigo began. This was a _nightmare!_ His first assignment, and it was already royally fucked up, all thanks to his idiot of a lab partner.

The pink-haired teacher gave him an unsympathetic gaze and waved his hand in dismissal. Ichigo had no choice but to shuffle out of the room, fuming as he went.

_This isn't fair!_

"This is all your fault!" Ichigo hissed at Grimmjow as soon as they were outside, who merely looked back at him with a bored expression.

Shrugging, the blue-haired teenager said, "What's the big deal? There are plenty more lab assignments, we'll catch up."

"That's _not_ the point!" Ichigo threw up his hands in exasperation. Couldn't the oaf see that this incident had tarnished his image in his Chemistry teacher's eyes?

"Why'd you even do that?" Ichigo asked, feeling very tempted to stab his finger into Grimmjow's unbelievably muscled chest.

Grimmjow shrugged yet again. "I thought it'd be cool," he said.

" _It'd be cool?_ " Ichigo echoed, staring at Grimmjow incredulously.

"Yeah," Grimmjow replied simply, looking at Ichigo with a straight face, as if that was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"God, you're such an idiot!" Ichigo exploded at the ridiculous explanation. Then, with a throaty growl, he glared at Grimmjow and stalked away, leaving his classmate standing in front of the staff room in stunned silence.

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Grimmjow muttered under his breath even though there was nobody there to hear it.

* * *

Ichigo continued to fume even after he got home. He threw his backpack across the room as if it was all its fault, then quietly cursed his blue-haired lab mate as he gave his mattress a brutal kick before finally plopping down in his chair. With a frustrated grunt, he pulled his laptop in front of him and switched it on.

The screen came to life, and Ichigo quickly launched Adium and signed on. To his relief, his best friend, Rukia, was online.

_[ Ichigo: You won't believe what happened today! ]_

After a brief pause, the status bar of the message window blinked, indicating that Rukia was typing.

_[ Rukia: Hey handsome! What happened? ]_

Ichigo exhaled through his teeth and typed, his fingers flying deftly over the keyboard.

_[ Ichigo: I got ZERO for my lab assignment because I have the stupidest lab partner in the world! ]_

_[ Rukia: Oh? What'd he do? Or is it a she? ]_

Ichigo glared at the screen as he thought of his blue-haired classmate.

_[ Ichigo: It's a HE. He screwed up the experiment because he used too much stuff…ON PURPOSE, can you believe it? God, I HATE him! ]_

He paused for a few seconds, and then sighed. He typed slowly, simply because he felt kind of embarrassed by what he was going to say next. But he meant every word.

_[ Ichigo: I miss you guys. ]_

_[ Rukia: Awww…you poor thing! It's okay, I'm always here for ya! I'm going over next month, remember? ]_

Ichigo beamed and straightened up. He'd completely forgotten that Rukia had accepted his invitation to visit him at Karakura.

_[ Ichigo: I can't wait! ]_

And then the conversation switched to Rukia and the rest of his friends over in Tokyo, and Ichigo allowed himself to forget about his annoyance at Grimmjow, albeit only temporarily.

* * *

Grimmjow watched his orange-haired lab mate walk off in stiff, long strides and frowned. He didn't get it — what the fuck was the big deal? So they lost points on this assignment, but there were plenty more to come that would easily make up for their overall score. It wasn't like this would make them fail the class or anything.

A large hand landed on his shoulder suddenly, and he whipped his head around and found himself staring into a pair of auburn-colored eyes.

Renji had a smile on his face, and his eyes glinted with amusement and curiosity. "What the hell happened, man?"

Grimmjow scowled. "I exchanged one tight-ass for another," he grumbled.

His friend chuckled. "Come on, you can't deny this one. You _did_ fuck up," Renji said with a smirk.

"He didn't have to be _that_ pissed," Grimmjow said, gesturing at Ichigo's receding back. "I mean, you'd think I killed his mom or something."

Renji laughed, and then sighed happily. "That's so cute. He's a good kid, you know?"

Grimmjow's eyes bulged, and he stared at his best friend as though Renji had gone mad. "Did you just call him cute?" he asked in shock.

Renji gave him a dirty look. "Yeah," he said. "Why? Somethin' wrong with that?"

"You're hopeless," Grimmjow muttered, rubbing his face with a calloused palm. "He's an ass and a fucking nerd, that's what he is."

"Aww, come on!" Renji grinned and gave his friend's arm a playful punch. 'You gotta admit, he looks adorable when he's pissed off."

Grimmjow glared at the redhead in disbelief before grunting in disgust. "This is fucked up."

* * *

**One week later**

Yep, Kurosaki Ichigo was a freaking nerd, Grimmjow decided. Although, he had to say, Ichigo was much more pleasant to the eyes than that scrawny-ass Ishida.

After the whole ammonia fiasco, Ichigo began to act all frosty towards him. The debate championship spanned over a few weeks, so Grimmjow was stuck with the orange-haired teen for a while. It was a pain in the ass.

Not only was Ichigo serious during lab, he was serious about _everything_. He listened in class, handed in his homework on time, and was the only person — he wouldn't be if Ishida was back — in the class to get perfect score on the weekly Math quiz. Grimmjow himself had barely scraped through that one, and damn if he gave two shits about it.

There was absolutely no way Ichigo would like Renji even if he was gay.

Speaking of which, Grimmjow had made no progress on that end. He had to admit, it was quite impossible to gauge the guy's sexual preference if the guy refused to talk to him at all. To his chagrin, Renji had begun to lose patience and wouldn't stop nagging.

Grimmjow sighed and threw a sideways glance at his best friend. Renji was ogling at Ichigo, _as usual_. His eyes were glazed with what could only be lust, and it looked like the redhead was straining with all his might not to drool on the desk. Grimmjow chuckled. Renji was so fucked this time.

Finally, the last bell rang, and Grimmjow sprung from his seat. But before he could make it out of the classroom, he heard something that made him go cold.

"Ichigo," said a voice that could belong to nobody but Renji. "How about I take you out for lunch? You know, to make up for that incident at the lab."

Grimmjow turned around and gaped at his friend in disbelief. _Wait, what?_

Ichigo stared at the redhead with narrowed eyes. "Why would _you_ take me out for lunch when _he_ messed up?" he asked, simultaneously sending a icy glare at Grimmjow.

"'Cause I'm his best friend and all," Renji replied, grinning from ear to ear. When Grimmjow grunted, he looked up and gave his friend a wink. "And you're _really_ sorry about messing up, right Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow opened his mouth to deny it, but clamped his mouth shut when Renji gave him a playful pouting face. "Yeah, whatever," he growled, sounding anything but sorry.

Ichigo pursed his lips in annoyance, but Renji draped an arm over his shoulder before he could retort. "Come on," Renji prompted, giving Ichigo's shoulders a shake. "Just think of it as hanging out with two of your coolest classmates. How about that, huh?"

Grimmjow rubbed his face and barely contained a groan. Renji was really overdoing it. Even with his lack of knowledge in the romance department, he knew that coming off as a sleazy pervert wasn't the way to go.

So he was surprised when Ichigo mumbled, "Whatever."

Grimmjow could tell that Renji wanted to pump his fists and scream "Yessss!" at the top of his lungs, but the redhead actually displayed some self-restraint and simply went red in the face in excitement.

* * *

The atmosphere was kind of awkward as the three boys sat at a table in the nearby cafe. At least the food was excellent, and it kept them all occupied.

Renji blabbered like an idiot throughout lunch, while Ichigo simply nodded politely. Grimmjow didn't blame the guy; after all, he hardly knew Renji. The two of them had barely talked before, much less have a full-blown, lengthy conversation.

And then Ichigo surprised him again by ordering dessert at the end of the meal. Grimmjow would've thought that the boy would escape from Renji's clutches as soon as he could, but there he was, sitting across the table with a banana split. Looked like the little nerd was denser than he thought. In fact, Ichigo looked _happy_ as he dug into his treat, shoving spoonful after spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Grimmjow swallowed as Ichigo took another mouthful of ice cream and silently cursed the boy's table manners. Hadn't anyone told the guy that one shouldn't moan and look like he was making love to the spoon when he ate?

Ichigo's eyes became half-lidded as he licked the spoon in appreciation. Apparently, the ice cream was delicious.

"Mmm…" Ichigo hummed as he scooped up the banana and slid it into his mouth. Clearly, he meant to bite off a piece with his teeth, but Grimmjow couldn't help picturing _other_ things in his mind as the fruit disappeared between the orange-head's lips.

Grimmjow glanced at his best friend, who was sitting by his side, and nearly burst out in laughter. The redhead's face was almost a deep maroon; Grimmjow was certain that the guy was sporting a massive hard-on at the moment.

"Thanks for lunch," Ichigo said to Renji, pointedly avoiding Grimmjow's eyes. He seemed to be in a much better mood now that he had food in his stomach.

Renji stared at the boy for a good two seconds before sputtering, "Yeah, no problem. My pleasure."

With a wave, Ichigo excused himself and left the two friends by themselves at the table. Renji continued to sit in his seat with a shocked expression on his very red face, while Grimmjow looked as if he would explode at any minute.

"That was…that should be…" Renji whispered after a long stretch of silence. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open in awe. "Fucking _illegal_."

That was it. Grimmjow finally let go and howled, slapping his hands on the table and kicking the chair in front of him.

"That was _so_ _sexy!_ " Renji said, sounding almost breathless, completely oblivious to his friend who was laughing his head off next to him.

"I know, I know, you want to be the spoon," Grimmjow said dryly. His friend was so, so screwed. "Look, man, I really think you shouldn't get your hopes up too high," he added. "He's a fucking tight-ass like Ishida and you know it."

Renji chuckled and flashed a grin. "I would hope it's tight!" Then he threw his head back and laughed at his own crude joke as Grimmjow looked on with scowl.

"Why the hell do you need _me_ to do your dirty work if you're so impatient?" Grimmjow growled.

Renji's grin widened, and his eyes took on a devilish glint. "Because you have thicker skin than I do."

"Stupid idiot," Grimmjow grumbled, but couldn't help chuckling quietly in the end. That _was_ true — Grimmjow could care less about what people thought of him.

Stupid or not, the redhead was the closest thing he had to a brother, and he would do what he could to help, even if it meant he would have to look like a fool to do it.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Ichigo did when he got home was to rush to his bathroom to look in the mirror. No, not because he was vain, but because he needed to see if he had something on his face. Or between his teeth. _Anything_ that could explain the odd looks Renji had given him.

The redhead had looked like he was going to burst, and his face was all flushed and sweaty. On second thought, Grimmjow looked odd, too. He had this constipated look on his face, and he kept glancing at his red-haired friend as if they shared some secret and didn't want to let Ichigo in on it.

There must be something on his face that they were too polite to point out. Maybe he got ketchup on his cheek. It had happened before.

But the face that stared back at him was flawless. There was nothing out of place; his teeth were just as white, his skin just as smooth — albeit a little paler now that he wasn't playing baseball anymore. There was no obvious reason for the stares that he had been subjected to in the past hour or so.

 _Creeps_ , he thought as he made his way back to his desk. Or more specifically, _creep_. Renji made his hair stand up on ends sometimes, although Ichigo thought he was a pretty friendly guy. Funny, too, but still creepy. Well, it wasn't that the redhead looked scary, Ichigo just felt that he was _too_ friendly.

He supposed he shouldn't complain. Rukia had already chided him for being anti-social at his new school. All he'd done in the past couple of weeks was to go online to chat with her as soon as he got home.

It wasn't healthy, she had scolded.

But he couldn't help it. Nobody here was cool like his old friends, and he felt that there were already many cliques in school, friends who'd grown up together all through high school, and he felt like an outsider. It was times like this when he really, _really_ missed his friends.

The only way he could enjoy that kind of friendship again was to get into that university in the United States.

Shiba Kaien, Rukia's boyfriend, was two years older than them and was a second-year student at a prestigious school in Boston. Rukia was going there too after she graduated; she excelled in her studies and had no problem getting into the school. It didn't hurt that her family was rich, because that school was ridiculously expensive. Of course the Kuchiki family could afford it — with their lucrative cosmetics company, they could probably buy an island in Costa Rica and make their own Jurassic Park if they wanted to.

To top it off, Shuuhei was going there too. He wasn't rich, but he was practically a genius, so he had qualified for a scholarship based on his outstanding results.

Ichigo, on the other hand, was neither rich _nor_ a genius. He was smart, but he couldn't cruise through school the way Shuuhei could. The only way he could make up for it was to work his ass off. And that's what he'd been doing — and it had been going really well — at his former school, but now he felt like he had to start all over again.

That wasn't entirely true, of course, but he needed to do well here. He couldn't let all his past effort go to waste by letting his studies slip just because he couldn't handle some "life adjustments". He wanted — _needed_ — all the recommendation letters he could get his hands on, and he was counting on one from Granz-sensei. Chemistry was one of his strongest subjects, and he was sure that he could impress the teacher…until Grimmjow screwed him over, that is.

Speaking of that blue-haired bastard…

Ichigo recalled the wide, chiseled face that had been in front of him throughout lunch. Those sharp, ocean-blue eyes had spent more time darting between his food and his best friend than looking at his orange-haired lunch companion, and for some reason, that irked Ichigo. Oh, he knew that they weren't on good terms, but still, wasn't it basic manners?

With a soft hum, his Macbook started up. A few clicks and taps later, he was talking to Rukia again.

_[ Rukia: How's my favorite gay best friend? ]_

Ichigo's mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes at the screen.

_[ Ichigo: I'm your ONLY gay friend. ]_

He pictured Rukia giggling on the other side of Japan and smiled fondly. Her black, chin-length hair must be bobbing as her shoulders shook in laughter, and her fingers would probably be balled into small fists, and they would be pounding lightly on the desk next to her keyboard.

_[ Rukia: Pfft. So what's up, kid? ]_

Ichigo sucked in a breath and began to type.

_[ Ichigo: There's this really weird guy… ]_

And so he went on about Renji, telling Rukia how weird the redhead was.

_[ Rukia: Oh yeah? What does he look like? Is he cute? :) ]_

Ichigo rolled his eyes again. Trust Rukia to ask about the guy's appearance over everything else.

_[ Ichigo: Hmm…red hair, lots of tattoos. ]_

_[ Rukia: No kidding! More! ]_

Ichigo snickered. He paused for a moment to think about how else to describe his classmate. Bandana, broad shoulders, thick, toned biceps. Did he miss something? Oh, yeah.

_[ Ichigo: He's ALWAYS smiling. He has this big, wide grin that makes him look like…I dunno, perpetually happy. ]_

Unlike his scowling, hulking best friend. Ichigo's nose wrinkled at the mental image of the blue-haired idiot called Grimmjow. He was just as tall as Renji, perhaps even an inch or two taller, but while Renji always had a genuine smile for everyone, Grimmjow tended to wear a cocky smirk on his face. Or worse still, a leer that looked like he was up to no good, and he had no qualms advertising the fact.

Grimmjow's eyes were a contrast to Renji's — while the redhead's were reddish brown and narrow, Grimmjow's were large, giving everyone a good view of his brilliant aqua-colored irises. The few times Ichigo caught his gaze, there was always a glint in those eyes: a hint of mischief, perhaps? A promise of trouble, a little danger, and a bit of something else that Ichigo couldn't quite identify.

_[ Ichigo: He wears the weirdest things too. He has this, I dunno, PENIS-looking pendant, can you believe it? ]_

And he wasn't kidding. He'd stared at it, and then again, and again, and by the end of lunch he was certain that it could be nothing but a silver penis dangling around the guy's neck. He had absolutely _no clue_ why Renji would think that it was a good design for a pendant, but then again his entire outfit had been strange — brown vest, yellow Chappy t-shirt, purple bandana. Ichigo had to say, if not for Renji's handsome features and outstanding figure, he would be a walking, talking joke.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, was a pleasant sight. His simple white V neck t-shirt clung to his frame like a glove, and the long sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his well-defined forearms. His hair was messy, almost to the point of bed head messy, but it was a look that suited him. Those strands that hung over his forehead, especially, lent him a lazy bad-boy look which fit him so easily, so naturally.

If only it wasn't _Renji_ who was undressing him with his eyes...

Ichigo shuddered involuntarily, and then he straightened up and blinked.

_[ Rukia: Hellooooo? You taking a dump or something? ]_

Ichigo stared at his laptop. Did he seriously just wish that it was _Grimmjow_ who'd looked at him like that?

 _Impossible_. That had got to be the worst idea ever. The guy was selfish, arrogant, and rude to boot. There was absolutely _nothing_ even remotely attractive about the idiot.

* * *

**Two days later**

Grimmjow fidgeted with his goggles. Ever since that ammonia incident, he had finally grudgingly admitted to himself that it wasn't the smartest idea to forgo that safety precaution. His eyes had stung for hours afterwards the other day, and he wasn't exactly anxious to go through that again.

He glanced over at his lab mate, who was scribbling something on the instruction sheet. His handwriting was too small for Grimmjow to read properly, but he figured the boy must be writing down the observations that they should be expecting.

Grimmjow was determined to get his plan rolling today. He'd never boasted that he had the sharpest radar in the world, and he honestly hadn't had enough time to observe Ichigo to be able to tell. Usually he didn't have this problem — if he saw a guy he liked, he would just hit on them. If they responded well, great; if not, he would shrug and move on. Straight, or simply not interested, it was no different to him.

Not so in this case. He couldn't possibly hit on Renji's boy.

So, essentially, he had only one real trick up his sleeves — lots and lots of thick skin.

Ichigo shuffled over to set up their equipment, and instead of moving away to make space for the boy, Grimmjow stood his ground. He grinned down at Ichigo when the boy gave him a frown and pulled their things nearer to himself.

Grimmjow took a deep breath and went for it. He looked at Ichigo's free hand, which was placed palm-down on the table on top of their instruction sheet, and reached for it. He pretended that he was going to pick up the piece of paper and not-very-subtly brushed his fingers against Ichigo's hand.

Ichigo retracted his hand like a tightly-wound spring and glowered at him. "You could just tell me you wanted it," he huffed.

 _Heh_. Grimmjow stared intently at the boy's face — no blush, no discomfort, just _a lot_ of annoyance. He pursed his lips. This subtlety shit really wasn't his thing. He was used to the brute-force approach, not this careful, experimental bullcrap.

Irritated by the look of contempt on Ichigo's face, Grimmjow decided to take the short route.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" he asked, keeping his eyes on Ichigo's face.

Ichigo's eyes went wide in surprise and his mouth fell open. Taken completely off guard by the unexpected question, Ichigo replied truthfully, "No."

_Yay for Renji._

"Boyfriend?"

Ichigo mouth stayed open and he looked at Grimmjow with an incredulous expression. Grimmjow would've guffawed at the boy's comical reaction if not for the current circumstances.

After a moment of silence, the shaken look disappeared from Ichigo's face and his gaze hardened. "Why the fuck do you want to know?"

_Bingo…?_

"Leave me alone and go play or something while I finish the work for _both_ of us," Ichigo said darkly and turned back to their experiment. His lips were stretched thin from being pressed together so tightly, and Grimmjow had a feeling that Ichigo would have given him a few more choice words were they not in the lab.

* * *

**Later that afternoon**

Grimmjow pushed the door open and listened to the bell chime cheerfully as it announced his entrance into the convenience store. He ran his hand through his hair, still damp from his shower, to fluff it up to get rid of the helmet-head effect. He strolled down the snacks and candy aisle. He was feeling munchy, and even though he knew he shouldn't, he was itching for something to chew on.

Today's basketball practice had been invigorating. They'd had a simple three-on-three, and Grimmjow's team had completely crushed their opponents, and now he was all pumped up with adrenaline and satisfaction from the victory.

He was just sliding his wallet back into his back pocket and picking up a stick of gum from the cashier's counter when he heard a high-pitched, feminine squeal, and his head snapped up.

On the opposite side of the street, directly in front of a bookstore, Inoue Orihime was surrounded by four teenagers. Even from a distance, Grimmjow could guess what was happening. With a disgusted grunt, he shoved the gum into his pocket and strode out of the store. These assholes tended to come armed, so he took a quick detour over to his motorbike to grab his helmet as a makeshift weapon.

But before he could cross the road, the door of the bookstore swung open, and a familiar figure stepped out. Grimmjow's eyes popped open in recognition.

Ichigo had a frown on his face, and his lips were pursed into a thin line as he stalked towards the small group. Grimmjow clenched his jaw as his entire body tensed up. The little nerd was going to get his ass handed over in a silver platter. He hastened his pace.

"Leave her alone," Grimmjow heard Ichigo say, his voice surprisingly even given the situation.

"Yeah?" one of the delinquents asked in an amused tone. He was insanely tall and thin, and his lips were curled up in a spine-chilling sneer. Even more disturbing was a white strip of fabric that served as an eye patch over his left eye. "Make me."

Before Grimmjow could shout a warning, Ichigo sprinted up to the teenager, eyes narrowed into cold, determined slits. His movements were so fast that Grimmjow stopped in his tracks in surprise. He couldn't believe it; his geeky lab partner was belting out punches and kicks so precisely, so efficiently that it only took two minutes before his black-haired opponent crumpled to the ground.

There was a collective gasp from the other delinquents, and then mayhem erupted.

Even so, Ichigo stole a few seconds to pull Orihime into his arms. The girl blushed as Ichigo gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze and a smile, and then he pushed her away to safety, and turned around to face the mob.

Grimmjow stared on dumbly as Ichigo ducked a mean right hook aimed for his face. Wasting no time, the orange-haired teen wheeled around and lashed out with his leg, catching his attacker right in the ribs. The boy yelped and staggered backwards, clutching his side as his features drew together in pain.

The two other boys gave each other a look, and one of them reached for the back of his jeans.

"Ah, shit," Grimmjow muttered. "Kurosaki!"

Ichigo only had a few seconds to recover from his shock before there was a loud ripping sound as the switchblade cut into his sleeve. Grimmjow saw the boy grit his teeth, but he never made a sound even as his sleeve was instantly stained a bright crimson.

Grimmjow lunged forward. With a grunt, he swung his helmet, and it connected with the back of the head belonging the guy with the switchblade. The teenager didn't even get the chance to gasp in pain before he, too, crumpled into a heap next to Ichigo. Then, with a snarl, he threw a solid punch into the gut of the teenager who just took Ichigo's leg in his side. The boy's eyes bulged, and then, gripping his stomach, he lurched forward and fell face-down on the ground.

_Nobody screwed around with Renji's boy and survived Grimmjow's wrath._

The remaining boy looked between Grimmjow and Ichigo. Then, with one last leer at Orihime, he sped off, not even bothering to pick his injured friends up.

"You okay?" Ichigo asked the girl as he jogged up to her.

Orihime's eyes widened in horror when her eyes fell on Ichigo's bloodied sleeve. "You're hurt!" she gasped, placing a delicate hand on Ichigo's arm.

Ichigo grinned at her. "Naw, this is nothing. I'm glad you're alright."

The girl blushed and flashed her savior a big smile. And then, she threw herself on Ichigo and hugged him.

Ichigo looked surprised, and then his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped his arm around Orihime's back and held her close.

Grimmjow stood aside and looked at them. At Ichigo, especially. Needless to say, he was still shocked to see his nerdy lab mate take down two teenagers, both larger than him. Who knew how many more he could defeat if the little fucker didn't pull out a knife? He felt a sudden surge of respect for the boy.

And then he frowned as Orihime buried her face in Ichigo's chest. The boy had a small smile on his face; he didn't look uncomfortable nor especially pleased, and Grimmjow could see nothing but relief in those caramel-colored eyes.

He felt bad for Renji. It was beginning to look like Ichigo was _not_ gay, and clearly, Orihime was smitten now. Even if the guy was bi — if Renji's _really_ lucky, Grimmjow didn't see how Renji could compete with the girl. Even if they gathered every ounce of fat on Renji's body, he still would not have enough to form even half of Orihime's generous breasts.

* * *

Ichigo let go of Orihime, who clung to him like a barnacle. After the initial shock wore off, she'd begun to shake and sob against his chest, and he had no choice but to keep her in his arms until she calmed down.

And then he looked over and noticed that Grimmjow was still standing there.

"Thanks," he said, offering his hand to Grimmjow. He couldn't deny it; if it weren't for Grimmjow, he wouldn't have gotten away with only one cut.

The blue-haired boy scowled, but took his hand anyway. "You gotta watch out for weapons, idiot," he growled. "They don't play fair."

 _Ah._ That reminded Ichigo of his injury, and he finally looked down and gingerly prodded his bicep. Blood was still slowly seeping out from the cut. He peeled his sleeve away and grimaced at the sight. The cut wasn't very long, but it looked deep.

"You should get that looked at," Grimmjow said gruffly. He gestured to his motorbike, which was parked across the street. "I could give you a ride to the hospital."

Ichigo immediately shook his head. "No, no," he said hastily. "I'm fine, really."

Grimmjow frowned. "At least get it disinfected. You don't know where that blade has been."

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly at the realization of the truth in that statement.

"Come on, my apartment is just around the corner," Grimmjow found himself saying. He handed his helmet over to Ichigo.

For a moment, the two lab mates stared at each other, and then Ichigo finally relented and took the offered head gear.

* * *

Ichigo took in the sight of Grimmjow's back muscles flexing underneath the tight t-shirt that he was wearing. The boy bent down and dug around in the cupboard, and Ichigo heard murmured cussing as things were shifted around.

He was surprised that Grimmjow offered to administer first aid for him, but then again, he didn't really know the guy well enough to know if that was out of character. What really shook him from the entire ordeal, though, was the look of sheer fury on Grimmjow's face as he rushed towards him with that helmet high in the air. The blue hair had been wild, and Grimmjow's lips had been curled upwards, revealing two sets of disturbingly sharp canines.

He was jarred out of his thoughts by a jolt of sharp pain on his arm, and he flinched instinctively with a yelp of pain.

"Pussy," Grimmjow growled. He slapped a wad of disinfecting wipes on the cut and began dabbing the area firmly.

Ichigo hissed in a mixture of pain and irritation before slapping Grimmjow's hand away. He took over the wad of wipes and tended to his injury himself.

"It's not that bad, I don't think you need stitches," Grimmjow said, reaching for more. "Why didn't you want to go to the hospital?"

Ichigo let out a breath. "My dad's the deputy director there," he replied with a shrug. "If he hears about this he'd just freak out."

"Ah."

Ichigo looked at Grimmjow as the teen nudged his hand aside and pressed fresh wipes on the cut, wringing a groan from Ichigo. Grimmjow did this with a sense of familiarity and efficiency that made it seem like he did it all the time, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel curious.

"When you grow up with a clumsy oaf like Renji, you learn to do this," Grimmjow said with a throaty chuckle when Ichigo asked him. "And then sports, fights, and all that good shit, you know?"

Ichigo nodded as if he knew how that was like. He grew up with two younger sisters; he hadn't exactly gone through "all that good shit", but he didn't feel like correcting his blue-haired classmate.

"Renji's a good guy," Grimmjow said suddenly. When he was met with silence, he looked up.

"I'm sure he is," Ichigo mumbled. He was getting a bad feeling about this.

"He might seem like an idiot sometimes, but he has a good heart," Grimmjow continued, turning his eyes back to the arm that he was wrapping with layers of gauze. "Very loyal."

Ichigo was too pre-occupied with Grimmjow's breath against his neck to truly listen to the guy. Grimmjow smelled of fresh mint, like the chewing gum that he just spat out a minute ago, and his hair had the clean, almost floral scent of shampoo.

Ichigo's heart was hammering in his chest, and he didn't understand why. This was the lab mate that he disliked — the guy who had potentially ruined the possibility of getting a recommendation letter from Granz-sensei, so why was he reacting like Grimmjow was some gorgeous, sexy heartthrob who was threatening to make his jeans tight?

His breath hitched in his throat as Grimmjow exhaled again, sending a whiff of refreshing mint in his direction. Ichigo swallowed. This was ridiculous. Post-traumatic stress disorder — that was the only explanation, he decided.

Any progress of creating a tent in his pants was cut off by a slap to his bicep, which sent another jolt of pain up his arm.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo yelled, flinching away from Grimmjow, who simply grinned at him.

"You're good to go," the blue-haired teen said. Then, he stood up.

That was the unmistakable sign of dismissal, and Ichigo got to his feet as well. He ran his fingers carefully over his bandaged arm and was pleased to see it very well done.

* * *

Grimmjow stood outside his apartment complex and watched the orange-head disappear around the corner. With a sigh, he scratched the back of his head and stuck his other hand into his jeans pocket.

How the hell should he break it to Renji that his competition was a set of impressive breasts?

* * *

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

The debate championship was over, and the dark-haired teenager with the rectangular glasses was back. He had won, of course — Ichigo would have to be blind not to notice the rare smile on Ishida Uryuu's face.

In other words, Ichigo was either going to get re-matched with another partner according to the order of their last names, or work on his own for the rest of the school year. To his surprise, Granz-sensei chose the third option: the three of them would form the only three-person team in the class.

On hindsight, Ichigo supposed it made sense. This way, nobody else would be affected, and Ichigo wouldn't have to work alone, which honestly would be quite a pain in the rear. While he got off a rough start with Grimmjow, the blue-haired boy had actually stopped being such as asshole to him after the Orihime incident. It was as if a switch had been thrown in Grimmjow's mind, and Ichigo suspected darkly that it was solely because Grimmjow no longer considered him a nerd, a geek, a loser, or whatever he'd had in mind after he saw Ichigo stand his ground against the bullies.

Whatever it was, it suited him just fine. It made Grimmjow just a tiny bit more tolerable.

If Ichigo thought he was hardworking, now he realized how sorely mistaken he was. Ishida — as everyone seemed to call him — was the embodiment of _hardworking_. He embraced the Chemistry textbook like it was the holy grail, and the caution and interest he put into their project was infectious. Ichigo found himself studying more, even treating the equipment and measurements more carefully so as to not embarrass himself in front of the other boy.

Although, he had to say, the infectious part wasn't really working on Grimmjow. The guy contributed by staying out of their way, given that he didn't really have anything to do now that he had not one but _two_ efficient partners.

Their next project was one of the most important one of the semester. It would take up a significant portion of their overall scores and spanned over three weeks. That meant work, more work, and then some more.

And so that's how they found themselves at the library today. The three lab partners took up a table at one of the furthest corners of the library and set to work. Ichigo was surprised that Grimmjow actually showed up, but as he had observed off and on since Ishida came back, Grimmjow had this pride issue going on between him and the bespectacled boy. Ichigo had no idea how it had developed, but he had a feeling it must have blossomed somehow while the two of them were lab mates.

He wasn't surprised. Grimmjow did strike him as the sort of person who would go to any lengths just to prove that he had the biggest dick.

Still, it was obvious that Grimmjow wasn't happy to be there. He fidgeted as if he was being slow-cooked in a pot of water, and the table constantly shook because he was shaking his leg and banging it against the table leg. He would stop when Ishida snapped at him, only to do it again five seconds later.

Then, to make things worse, Ishida received a text message — his phone was on silent, of course — and promptly proceeded to announce — softly — that he had to leave, and that he expected to read their notes the next day. After the dark-haired teen left, Ichigo turned back to the book in front of him, and stared.

How was he supposed to go through a study session with _Grimmjow?_

Oh, not because Grimmjow treated their work like a piece of chewed gum stuck to the bottom of his shoes, but because he could almost still smell that minty breath on his neck. And that fresh, clean scent of the boy's shampoo; Ichigo hadn't been able to get it out of his mind after he left Grimmjow's apartment. It was as if it had adhered itself permanently inside Ichigo's nostrils, and he could smell it with every breath he took.

And it was especially strong now, since its owner was sitting right across from Ichigo at the moment.

Grimmjow stuck out in the library almost as badly as Ichigo would in a nightclub. His blue hair was in its usual semi-controlled chaos state, and he was wearing a dark blue V-neck sweater that offered a small peak of his broad chest. His collar bones were prominent and stretched from shoulder to shoulder, and the sleeves molded around his biceps perfectly. His jeans sat low on his hips; just enough to show off a tiny strip of the waistband of his dark-grey boxers without looking trashy, and his legs seemed to go on for mile after mile. He sat sloppily on the chair, his butt hanging off the edge of his seat.

Ichigo was horrified when he realized that he had just studied his lab partner from head to toe. What the hell was happening to him? He was supposed to dislike the guy, not treating him like visual lollipop.

His heart pumped loudly in his chest, to the point that he was worried that it could be overheard in the silence of the library.

"Yo."

Ichigo's head snapped up abruptly at the interruption.

"This here said we're supposed to find _Competition for Electrons: Redox Reaction and Electrochemistry_ by one Thomas T. Mitsunaga," Grimmjow read, his nose wrinkling at the mouthful of words. "Why the fuck did they have to give it such a long name? Just reading it is giving me a headache."

"Oh." Ichigo turned to the same page and double checked the title. "I'll go get it." With that, he scrambled to his feet, eager to give his heart a break.

"Suit yourself," came the gruff reply.

Ichigo went off and walked down several aisles, searching for the author's name.

"Mitsunaga, Mitsunaga, Mitsuna…ah!" His eyes brightened when he found the very book that he was looking for, but immediately groaned when he realized that the book was placed at the top-most shelf.

Grumbling under his breath, Ichigo pushed the tall rolling ladder over to the location he needed and engaged the locking mechanism. He grabbed the railing and shook it a few times to make sure it was secure, and then he began to climb. It was only when he reached the top of the ladder that he realized that he'd actually missed the book by about a foot.

Ichigo took a brief look down and decided that he was too lazy to climb back down and reposition the ladder, so he merely took a deep breath and reached for the book. It was squashed tightly between two other very thick, very dusty books, and it stubbornly refused to budge even after Ichigo got a good grip on its spine. Ichigo pulled, and shook, and pulled some more, and then he sneezed.

The world seemed to tip to the side as Ichigo recovered from the abrupt head movement, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized that he had lost his balance. His hands shot out to grab the handrail, but he missed by just half an inch. His heart jumped to his throat, and he felt air whoosh by his ears as his world shifted on its axis.

And then he landed on a warm tangle of limbs.

Ichigo's breath was knocked out from his lungs, and his heart restarted when he finally realized that he was alright. He looked up at the ladder; it was only about ten feet high, he wouldn't have died if he had hit the ground — unless he was unlucky enough to land on his head and break his neck, but it would sure hurt like a bitch.

"Move, you idiot!" A deep, annoyed voice in his ear startled him out of his relief.

Ichigo looked up and jumped again as he came face-to-face with Grimmjow, who was serving as the cushion between him and the hard cement floor. The teen was propped up on one elbow, and Ichigo was sprawled quite ungracefully across Grimmjow's torso. Those piercing azure eyes were literally less than five inches away from his face, and minty fresh breath hit him full in the face as Grimmjow blew out an irritated sigh.

Frozen in place, Ichigo stared numbly at Grimmjow's mouth. His lips were a healthy pink, and they called out silently to Ichigo. Like a man in a trance, he lifted his head, his back stiff as he slowly propped himself up with his elbow. Grimmjow had also stiffened, and was looking at Ichigo so intently that he was close to becoming cross-eyed. Four inches…three inches…two inches…

There was a blinding burst of pain around his wrist, and Ichigo was suddenly pushed off his makeshift cushion and yanked roughly to his feet.

"You trying to get yourself killed?" Grimmjow hissed as he thrust a book in Ichigo's face. "I was gonna tell you that Ishida already got a copy, and here I find you diving off the stupid ladder."

"It was an accident," Ichigo grumbled, snatching the book from Grimmjow's fingers.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and grunted, then he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and stalked off to their table. Ichigo glared at the boy's back for a few seconds before following suit.

When they got to their table, Renji was sitting in Ichigo's seat, grinning at them as they walked up to him.

"Bored to death yet?" the redhead asked, his grin widening as he took in his best friend's disgruntled expression. "Dinner?"

Grimmjow flashed him a scowl and sat down with a loud thud. "Sure."

Renji turned to Ichigo and smiled up at him expectantly, and Ichigo found himself nodding.

* * *

**One hour later**

Ichigo was certain now. Renji had a crush on him — a really strong one, if his smiles and brief touches were any indication. It would have been okay, even cute, if his mind wasn't so occupied by the redhead's best friend.

He laughed politely as Renji wrapped up another joke. He only heard snippets of it, but he knew when to laugh and nod. At any other time he would've felt bad for Renji, because the guy was clearly doing his best to keep Ichigo entertained, but not right now.

It didn't help that Grimmjow had taken the seat across from him, letting Renji sit next to Ichigo in the booth at the restaurant. He could feel the redhead bump "accidentally" against his arm several times throughout the meal, and the gap between them seemed to become smaller and smaller as the evening progressed. Seriously, if Renji wasn't such a friendly, down-to-earth guy, Ichigo would've taken off long ago.

It was a good thing that Renji seemed to be so giddy over Ichigo's mere presence that he didn't pay attention to everything else, because otherwise he would've noticed that Ichigo kept glancing at Grimmjow. He tried very hard not to, but every few seconds he would catch himself looking at his lab partner. Once or twice, he managed to catch Grimmjow's gaze, but for the most part the idiot blatantly ignored him. It was frustrating, to say the least. He kind of wanted to thank the guy, even though his ego was trying to talk him out of it.

Ichigo knew that Grimmjow was trying to play matchmaker, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It would explain the weird questions at the lab the other day. And of course Grimmjow wasn't the most subtle person in the world, because all of a sudden, he stood up and announced that he needed to use the restroom, but not before he gave Renji a long, meaningful look.

The act was so clumsy, so out of character for the rough, masculine teenager that it was almost comical. Although, sadly, Ichigo couldn't laugh because he was the victim.

* * *

Grimmjow bent over the sink and turned the faucet to its max. The icy cold tap water stung, but he continued to splash it on his face, determined to wash off the heat from his cheeks.

He couldn't begin to describe the rush of relief he'd felt when he managed to break the boy's fall. Renji would _kill_ him if Ichigo got hurt on his watch. But that didn't explain the way his heart continued to beat so abnormally fast in his chest, nor the heat that threatened to spread all over his face.

He felt downright uncomfortable and confused, and he hated it.

To top it off, he wasn't the only one who seemed to be affected by the library incident. He remembered the way Ichigo had looked at him right before he pushed the boy off of himself. Their eyes had locked, and he had felt a weird shiver up his spine that he couldn't explain. He had noticed how Ichigo's lips were slightly parted and moist, and he was aware that Ichigo was lying on top of him with his face mere inches away. He'd also noticed the odd dusting of pink across the boy's cheeks and nose bridge.

Then, Ichigo seemed to have withdrawn into himself after they left the library. He was unusually quiet during dinner, almost to the point of being shy, and Grimmjow wasn't sure if it was because Renji had made the guy uncomfortable by being too pushy or if it was because of something else. It could be Renji; he'd noticed how the redhead had begun to invade Ichigo's personal space as they ate.

The boy's wide, caramel-hued eyes floated to his mind again as he tore off ragged pieces of paper napkin to dry his face. He rubbed them all over his face with so much force that he felt _raw_ by the end of it. When he was done, he tossed the damp napkin into the garbage can and gave it a savage kick before turning around to face the door.

_Fuck this._

He stomped back to their table with a scowl on his face, feeling pissed at himself. Then, he saw his dinner companions and stopped in his tracks.

Renji was leaning towards Ichigo, one arm draped casually over the boy's shoulders. Ichigo was chuckling, his eyes narrowed into half-moon shaped slits as he laughed. He seemed genuinely happy and seemed completely fine with the position of Renji's hand. They were sitting so close that their bodies were pretty much pressed against each other, and Renji had a lopsided, shit-eating grin on his face.

Grimmjow's face felt stiff even though he really wanted to smile at the sight; his best friend was well on his way to getting the one he'd been lusting after.

Then, Ichigo looked up and caught Grimmjow's eyes. The boy stilled, and a glint of _something_ entered his gaze; Grimmjow felt his hackles rise. There was something challenging in that look, something almost like defiance, even. And then it was gone in a blink of an eye, and Grimmjow found himself staring at Ichigo's cheek as the boy turned to look at Renji.

_What the fuck is his problem?_

"We're going to head over to Starbucks, you comin'?" Renji drawled as his friend slid into his seat.

"Naw, I'm beat, you guys go ahead."

* * *

It couldn't be further from the truth when he said that he was beat. It was quite the opposite, in fact. He felt like he'd knocked back a gallon of caffeine from the way his limbs seem to tingle with restlessness.

There was only one solution.

Grimmjow slammed the locker door shut and turned the dial of the lock. Then, he made his way to the rows of exercise machine to begin his usual routine. He may not understand what was going on inside his head, but working up a sweat and knocking his body into exhaustion had always solved his problems in the past.

About fifteen minutes into his regimen, he caught sight of a tuft of auburn hair out of the corner of his eyes. He was working on the chess press machine when someone slid gracefully into the adductor machine next to him. He tilted his head to the side as subtly as he could and watched.

The man had wavy, dark brown hair that extended down to the base of his neck, and it brushed against his shoulders as he moved his legs. Open. Close. Open. Close. He was wearing a pair of lose gym shorts, but his powerful thigh and calf muscles was clearly visible as they flexed.

Grimmjow had always thought that the adductor and abductor machines were obscene to the eyes, and this just reaffirmed his belief. The rhythmic spreading and closing of the guy's legs distracted him, and he felt his own movements slow down as he turned his head to stare at the man openly.

The head lifted, and a pair of blue-grey eyes threatened to pierce his skull.

All of a sudden, all the access energy and jitteriness in his body rushed to his groin and pooled there as those eyes looked him up and down just as openly.

Looked like solution number two just presented itself.

* * *

They didn't even bother exchanging names before shedding their clothes.

There was no question what they both wanted the minute they locked eyes; when the stranger's lips curled up into a seductive smirk, Grimmjow had stuck out his tongue and licked his lips. That had sealed the deal, and they'd immediately abandoned their machines. Being the one living closer to the gym, Grimmjow's apartment was selected as venue of choice, and the man followed him back in his own car.

 _This_ was what Grimmjow was familiar with. Raw, direct, free of bullshit. There was no need to guess what the other guy wanted; it was simple — take and give pleasure, end of story.

No irritating thoughts of _what the hell was that feeling_ or _why was he looking at me like that_.

The brown-haired man tasted like tobacco; while Grimmjow didn't smoke, it suited him just fine. They kissed briefly; nothing soul-searching or particularly passionate. It was just a quick stop before things got dirty. Hands groped and kneaded as their breathing grew increasingly harsh, and then Grimmjow pushed the man onto his back in his queen-sized bed.

The stranger didn't seem to mind that Grimmjow was rough. He lay there with one arm serving as a pillow behind his head and let Grimmjow take the lead, his eyes half-closed as his other hand curled into a fist in Grimmjow's hair.

Grimmjow was more than happy to lead; he let his teeth graze the delicate skin of the man's neck, leaving a pink trail that led down to the distinct outlines of the man's collarbones. And then he moved up again, this time nipping the flesh at the junction of the neck and shoulder. The man growled beneath him and none too discretely thrust his hips up.

The friction made Grimmjow even harder, and he quickly abandoned any pretense of foreplay. Breaking away from the man's body, he pulled his drawer open and took out a condom.

Preparation was a hurried and messy affair, and then he slid inside. He groaned loudly, relishing the heat and tightness that dismissed any form of coherent thought from his mind. From then on, everything was a blur. He built up a brutal rhythm, wringing hoarse, broken cries from the man beneath him.

Then, all that pent-up tension snapped and a muffled groan left him as he shuddered. At the height of his high, he opened his eyes.

A pair of warm brown eyes stared back at him.

 _Ichigo_.

It was unmistakable — the boy's eyes were heavy-lidded from exhaustion and recently-sated lust, but he could recognize them anywhere. Grimmjow's grip tightened on the stranger's — or was it _Ichigo's?_ — hips as he gasped out loud in shock, and then he recoiled and quite literally fell off the bed.

He sat there, naked and sweaty, his eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. The bed creaked softly, and he looked up to see the wavy-haired stranger stand up. The man looked at him with a curious glint in his eyes but remained silent. He simply bent down and collected his clothes, and then put them on with casual ease that indicated that he was no stranger to this sort of activities.

Once he was completely dressed, the stranger threw an amused glance at Grimmjow and blew him a kiss before walking out of the apartment, leaving the blue-haired teenager still sitting on the floor with a stunned expression on his face.

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So, a few things to clear up:**

**Number one, the Chemistry book. I didn't go to high school in the US so I have absolutely _no idea_ what books are used by high school seniors. I just randomly picked one from Amazon dot com, my selection based purely on the complexity of its title. :p**

**Number two, the adductor and abductor machines! What the hell are they, you might ask. The adductor machine works out the inner thigh muscles, while the abductor machine works out the outer thigh. I recently finished a course of personal training, and let me tell ya (if you have never seen them), I felt mighty awkward using those machines.**

**Lastly, who is that mysterious stranger? Oh I dunno...what's your guess? ;) Hint: He works for Aizen.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Three hours past midnight**

On hindsight, that vanilla latte was a _bad_ idea.

Ichigo's eyes remained bright and alert even as he tried to will himself into exhaustion. With a frustrated huff, he pulled his comforter up to his chin and turned to his side.

It didn't help that he was feeling annoyed as hell too. He couldn't _believe_ how Grimmjow kept pushing him to Renji throughout the evening like he was some kind of chew toy. Yet at the same time, he acted like Ichigo wasn't there.

_Crap._

As soon as Ichigo allowed his mind to wander to the blue-haired teenager, he immediately wished that he hadn't. Now, without his permission, his mind played images of Grimmjow inside his head like a slideshow, and no matter how hard he tried to push the mental stop button, it kept on playing. One image in particular stood out — the one where Grimmjow's face was mere inches away from his own. Grimmjow's blue eyes were so wide and unblinking that he almost seemed startled. Ichigo remembered what he had been tempted to do at that split second, and he groaned inwardly when he realized that he felt wistful that he hadn't done it.

Ichigo blew out a breath. Okay, he couldn't deny it anymore. For reasons he could not fathom, somehow his brain cells had decided — _without his consent_ — that it was a good idea to fall for his idiot of a lab partner. He couldn't believe the unfairness of it all. Why couldn't he fall for someone like _Renji_ instead? Someone who actually hung out and talked to him because they wanted to, instead of _having_ to, which was what Grimmjow seemed to be doing. He merely _tolerated_ Ichigo's presence out of necessity.

Ichigo had no illusions that if it weren't for Renji, he would never see Grimmjow outside of Chemistry class. He just didn't understand his own mind — why on earth would he like a guy he barely knew?

 _Ugh, somebody please kill me now_ , Ichigo thought as he threw the covers over his head. He didn't want to think about this anymore. All he wanted to do now was to let sleep take him so that he didn't have to think about the one person outside of his reach.

* * *

When Grimmjow missed three Chemistry lab sessions in a row, Ichigo knew for sure that the boy was avoiding him. He had no idea why Grimmjow would suddenly do that, given that doing this didn't benefit Renji in any way. Now, if Grimmjow were to swap his place with Renji, it would make sense. But no, he simply stopped coming to class.

Never had Ichigo felt like strangling someone as much as he did now. This _had_ to do with what happened at the library, it _had_ to. But why or how, he hadn't the slightest clue. He would've understood this if he had actually kissed the guy the other day, but he hadn't. _Nothing_ happened.

_So what gives?_

This feeling of the unknown grated on Ichigo's nerves; he wanted so badly to just go up to Grimmjow and demand to know what the problem was. But he couldn't even do that, because he hardly saw Grimmjow anymore. Hanging out with Renji used to be a sure-fire way to be around Grimmjow, but even that didn't work now. Whenever Renji invited Ichigo to go out with them, Grimmjow would be gone within minutes.

It was so obvious that Grimmjow was avoiding him that it was a wonder that Renji didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps he did and thought that this was his friend's way of "helping" him.

Either way, Ichigo _itched_ to talk to Grimmjow, but for the life of him, he didn't know how.

* * *

**One week later**

Ichigo felt so anxious that he couldn't stop bouncing on the balls of his feet. Every few seconds, he would frown at the flight status display screen as if that would make Rukia's plane arrive sooner. He hadn't felt so excited or happy in a long time. Finally, after so many weeks of waiting, his best friend would finally be here!

When the screen did blink and showed that her flight had arrived, Ichigo squeezed to the front of the crowd so that Rukia would spot him easily. The arrival hall was noisy and packed full of travelers, so much so that he didn't see Rukia until she was only two feet in front of him.

"Ichigoooo!"

With a loud squeal, Rukia flung herself into Ichigo's open arms and hugged him so tightly that he had to peel her off to avoid being smothered to death. Rukia looked exactly like how he remembered her — her raven hair was still styled in the same fashionable bob that ended just bellow her chin, and she was still as slim as ever. Her face was radiant, her eyes bright with joy.

"You look good," Ichigo said with a grin. In Ichigo-speak, that translated to _I really miss you but I'm too embarrassed to say it._

Rukia knew him long enough to see through that facade, and that just made her laugh even harder. Ichigo rolled his eyes at her and reached out to grab her carry-on, but before he could, he felt a large hand land on his shoulder.

"Yo," a familiar voice breathed next to his ear, and Ichigo spun around in delight.

"Shuuhei!"

"The one and only," the tall, slender teen said. His spiky black hair pointed in a thousand directions, and his lips were upturned in his trademark muted smile. The three thin, long scars that stretched from under his bangs to his jaw on the right side of his face confirmed that this could be nobody else but Hisagi Shuuhei, one of Ichigo's closest friends besides Rukia.

"How —? What —?" Ichigo was at a loss for words, but his face was lit up like a child's on Christmas morning.

"Told you he'd be happy to see you." Rukia winked at Shuuhei, then, she turned to her best friend. "Surprised?"

Ichigo hooked an arm around Rukia's shoulders and grinned at Shuuhei. "You guys are the best!"

His old friends had only been in town for less than ten minutes, and he already felt like a whole different person.

The taxi ride from the airport to his house was only half an hour long, but by the time he unlocked the front door, he was completely up-to-date with the latest happenings in his old circle of friends. Yumichika, that little whiny kid that used to worship him like a god, had struck gold and actually managed to land himself a girl. Ichigo had heard of Matsumoto Rangiku before, had even seen her off and on in school; the girl had assets that made Orihime's seemed stunted. And apparently, Rangiku loved getting it on as much as Kuchiki Corp. liked making profits. In other words, Yumichika was in for a real treat.

On the other end of the spectrum, Ikkaku — their loud, hotheaded friend — dislocated his shoulder during a kendo match. How that could even happen, Ichigo had no idea. If Shuuhei's descriptions were even half as accurate, it sounded like the rest of their friends were suffering the brunt of Ikkaku's wrath, now that he didn't have an outlet for his overflowing energy.

Squeezing three people into his already-snug bedroom was quite a feat, but Ichigo would have it no other way. He imagined late nights filled with pointless trash-talking and movie marathons till the wee hours of the morning, and the thought of that made him forget the mess that was his love life. Well, almost.

He only had an hour of reprieve before Rukia stared at him with her large, purple eyes and stated flatly, "Spit."

Even Shuuhei understood the command, and his face broke into a rare grin as he looked at Ichigo. Rukia hadn't told him the specifics, but it was enough for Shuuhei to know that Ichigo was being pursued by a classmate — an attractive, red-haired, heavily tattoo-ed soccer player with bad fashion sense. Okay, so Rukia did tell him _some_ specifics.

Instead of talking about Renji, Ichigo let his other problem spill out from his mouth.

"Oh. My. God. A _blue_ -haired, tall, _handsome_ , buff basketball player? No fair! Why don't _we_ have that kind of eye-candy in our school?" Rukia complained indignantly with a twinkle in her eyes.

Ichigo snorted. Rukia went around talking like a pervert starving for male companionship, but in truth she was fiercely loyal to Kaien, whom she'd dated since freshman year.

"Hey!" Shuuhei protested, sounding a little hurt. "Aren't I eye-candy enough for the entire city of Tokyo?"

Ichigo couldn't take it anymore — with a loud, gross snort, he burst into laughter and doubled over, clutching his stomach as tears threatened to spill from the corner of his eyes. Oh, how he had missed this! But then he sobered up as the thought of Grimmjow invaded his mind uninvited again.

"The worst part is, I _know_ he'd never be with me because he'd never do this to Renji," he said. "He won't even _look_ at me nowadays."

His friends' laughter faltered as Ichigo's sad tone dampened the mood in the room.

"You know what, kid," Rukia said thoughtfully. "It sounds to _me_ likethis _Grimmjow_ guy has a thing for you too."

Ichigo's eyes widened. "Have you even been listening to me?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, come on, Ichigo," Rukia said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Are you that dense? Lack of eye contact, awkwardness when your lover-boy gets all touchy with you, downright avoiding you...he's practically screaming _I love you Kurosaki Ichigo!_ " She stuck out her tongue at Ichigo when the orange-haired teen gave her a murderous glare. "Okay, that's maybe laying it on a bit thick, but you get what I'm trying to say."

"It's either that," Shuuhei piped up, rubbing his chin in all seriousness. "Or he really dislikes you."

Rukia punched him in the arm, making Shuuhei yelp and dart away. "Yeah, you're _real_ helpful, Shuuhei!"

Ichigo scowled at the conflicting, and — to him anyway — completely useless contributions from his friends, and then his jaw fell open in disbelief at Rukia's next words.

* * *

Grimmjow knew he wasn't doing his grades any favors by missing so many classes, but he was at his wits' end. The vision that had crept up on him at the end of his one-night-stand had scarred him. Something was wrong with his head, and it pissed him off that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He had brain damage, he was sure of it — it was the only viable explanation for his desire to _see that face_ again.

Oh, not the usual straight, serious face that Ichigo sported in class, or the scowl that pulled his brows together — he wanted to see Ichigo's face all flushed and sweaty like the other night. He wanted to see those caramel eyes half-closed and glazed over, wanted to see those full, pink lips parted slightly as the boy lay panting beneath him.

It scared him to death.

Fear — a completely foreign notion to him — chewed on his pride like a blunt saw on a thick rope, and when something like this happened, Grimmjow's reaction was very straightforward: he became pissed.

He had been using basketball practice to excuse himself whenever Renji asked him to hang out with them. It sucked that it meant he had to keep his distance from Renji too, but sacrifices had to be made. The redhead made it very easy for him, though, because he simply thought that this was another one of Grimmjow's sneaky ploys; that Grimmjow was giving him the chance to spend time alone with his crush.

Grimmjow had no intention of correcting his friend's assumption.

But that didn't mean he was free. He could skip some classes but he couldn't downright skip everything. Sure, he didn't love school the way Ishida did, but not graduating from high school was not an option, his old man had made that very clear years ago. And that meant that he still had to face Ichigo, and whenever that happened, the boy threatened to bore holes in his skull.

Grimmjow didn't understand why Ichigo kept sending him such accusatory looks. What the hell had he done to justify such treatment? Wasn't saving the guy's ass _twice_ good enough? It was like that ammonia incident all over again. He just didn't get it. Ichigo should be having the time of his life being showered by Renji's affection, not going around with that monstrous scowl etched on his face. That was _Grimmjow's_ line!

At least he wasn't lying when he told Renji that he had basketball practice today. It was his only outlet now — he really didn't want to see Renji's boy in that context again even though he really wanted to see it, so he had been steering clear from his _other_ outlet. Did that make sense? It didn't in his head, but that's the kind of shit he had to suffer through these days.

Life was such a bitch.

He was sweating like a pig after practice and absolutely exhausted, but he relished the muscle ache like it was a gift. It took his mind off things, and that was all that mattered. His bike was parked some distance away from the basketball court, so he began to jog, ignoring the protests from his tired leg muscles. The breeze felt refreshing against his skin, and, despite his tightly strung nerves, he started to relax.

And that was when he caught sight of a splotch of orange out of the corner of his eye. He was passing by the football field, and there, just underneath the wooden bleachers, stood Ichigo and a black-haired teenager whom Grimmjow had never seen before. Ichigo's back was pressed against one of the beams, and the stranger was shamelessly invading the orange-haired boy's personal space. One of his arms was raised and resting against the wooden beam above Ichigo's head while his free hand was on Ichigo's hip.

Grimmjow stopped in his tracks so abruptly that he actually skidded.

What truly caught his attention was the look on Ichigo's face. The expression on the boy's face gave him a strong feeling of déjà vu, and with a start, Grimmjow suddenly knew why it was so familiar — it was how Ichigo always looked whenever Renji got too close to him.

With that realization came an abrupt spreading of heat in his chest that made him curl his hands into fists. The thought of a stranger making Ichigo feel so uncomfortable rubbed him the wrong way, and before he could stop himself, he was stalking towards the bleachers. As he got nearer, Grimmjow saw Ichigo's eyes widen. The other boy, sensing Ichigo's movement, turned around to face Grimmjow.

Just the sight of this boy made Grimmjow want to sock him in the jaw — especially that obnoxious tattoo of the number "69" on his cheek. And he was fucking _smirking_ , the upturned corner of his lips silently taunting Grimmjow.

"Trouble, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked gruffly.

Ichigo opened his mouth, but the stranger cut him off. "There's no trouble, Ichigo and I…we're just hangin'. Right, babe?" the boy drawled with a wink at Ichigo. Then, cocking an eyebrow with an amused glint in his steel-grey eyes, he added, "You his bodyguard or somethin'?"

Grimmjow damn near snarled. As it was, he inched closer and practically growled into the guy's face. "Say that again?"

The dark-haired stranger stuck out his chin defiantly and looked up at Grimmjow. "I said, you his bodyguard or —" The rest of the sentence was lost as Grimmjow's fist sunk into the boy's stomach, and the little prick immediately doubled over with a breathless groan of pain.

"Shit!" Grimmjow heard Ichigo cry out in alarm, and then Ichigo was suddenly all over him, pushing him away from the stranger and wedging himself between them. "Stop it, stop! Damn it!"

Grimmjow ignored Ichigo and yanked the stranger up roughly by a fistful of hair. The tattooed face was contorted in pain, the arrogance gone in favor of shock.

"You _leave Ichigo alone_ , you hear me?" Grimmjow said slowly, his voice low and throaty. He knew he was probably going overboard, but he wanted to get the message across. _Nobody_ played around with Renji's boy and survived Grimmjow's wrath, remember?

The boy gritted his teeth and nodded weakly.

Grimmjow let go of his hair and watched the bastard stagger backwards, then he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Ichigo grabbed him by the elbow. Grimmjow wheeled around.

Ichigo gave him a pained look before asking, "Why did you do that?"

Grimmjow started to answer, but something in Ichigo's tone made him stop. All of a sudden, he didn't know how to reply. So, being the prideful creature that he was, Grimmjow flung Ichigo's hand off and walked away. He didn't see Ichigo scramble back to the dark-haired boy and help him to his feet, nor did he see the boy give Ichigo a weak high-five.

* * *

Ichigo's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when Grimmjow went berserk and attacked Shuuhei. And to think he didn't even believe Rukia when she said that this would pique Grimmjow's interest.

"I'm really sorry," Ichigo mumbled, supporting Shuuhei as the boy took a couple of tentative steps forward.

"No biggie," Shuuhei croaked with a crooked grin. His stomach hurt as if he'd just run into a mountain of bricks, but he couldn't be happier.

Rukia's theory had been correct, sort of. "Big Blue" — as Rukia and Shuuhei had come to call him — had indeed gotten into protective mode, but Ichigo was still struggling to understand if it was simply a reflex on Grimmjow's part. Perhaps he just didn't like to see his friends in trouble, or he could simply be protecting Renji's turf, _or_ — as Rukia believed — he was jealous.

_"Nobody goes to this extreme for someone else's crush, okay? Not even if they're best friends," Rukia had said._

But Ichigo wasn't so sure. Grimmjow seemed like the type who would.

In other words, all this trouble _and_ a big bruise on Shuuhei's stomach later, Ichigo still had no more information than he had the day before. But this time Ichigo made up his mind. He wasn't going to sit around and simmer in his agony — he just couldn't take it anymore. If Shuuhei could take a punch in the stomach for him, he could gather the courage to talk to Grimmjow.

* * *

**One week later**

Ichigo swallowed, his eyes following the tall, muscular basketball players as they left the locker room. He knew today was basketball practice, and he knew Grimmjow would be here. So far, there had been no sign of him yet, but Ichigo would wait.

Rukia and Shuuhei had flown back to Tokyo that morning. Right before they left, Shuuhei had told him that he'd better not let his pain go to waste, so here he was, standing outside the men's locker room, waiting for Grimmjow to appear.

What seemed like two dozen people later, there was still no sign of Grimmjow, and Ichigo began to feel stupid. And then, just as he started pacing up and down the corridor, the door to the locker room swung open and the man of the hour walked out. The thin, blue eyebrows immediately shot up when Grimmjow recognized Ichigo.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said. He had to do this, and he had to do this before he lost his nerves, which was already beginning to fray underneath the other teen's piercing, ocean-blue glare.

"What?" Grimmjow sounded wary; not particularly hostile, just…reluctant. Like a kid who was hoping to sneak out to watch TV in the middle of the night but got caught on the way down the stairs.

Ichigo took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge. "Why did you hit Shuuhei?" he asked, his throat straining to keep the tremor out of his voice.

As soon as the words left his lips, he saw the taller boy stiffen. But instead of answering, Grimmjow simply asked, "That the little shit's name?"

"Yeah, he's my friend," Ichigo replied. He took a few steps closer.

"Some kind of friend ya got," Grimmjow muttered. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts.

Ichigo noted Grimmjow's hair; it was darker and kind of stringy because it was damp, and it clung to the top of his head almost comically. He had probably just showered after practice, and Ichigo wondered fleetingly if he'd used the same shampoo. The one he liked so much. Tentatively, he took a few more steps towards Grimmjow.

"What do you want?" Grimmjow asked finally, giving Ichigo a bored look.

"You haven't answered my question," Ichigo pointed out.

Grimmjow blew out a sigh, and Ichigo pulled up in front of him, just in time to get a faint whiff of mint.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Ichigo asked, hoping that he could get to all his questions before his heart decided to stop.

"I'm not _avoiding_ you," Grimmjow huffed, but refused to meet Ichigo's eyes.

Ichigo took a gamble and stepped even closer. "You are." Then, he took a leap of faith. "Is it because you like me?" He heard a sharp intake of breath, which told him a whole lot more than any words could. Feeling bolder, he pressed forward. "I like you, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow's head snapped to face Ichigo, and Ichigo found himself staring into a pair of wide, startled eyes. "What did you say?" Grimmjow asked, voice suddenly hoarse.

"I like you," Ichigo repeated, and then he added, "And I'm asking if you like me."

Grimmjow — the loud-mouthed, fearless Grimmjow — seemed speechless. He continued to stare at Ichigo, but the fact that he didn't say no made Ichigo's heart beat a whole lot faster. A rush of excitement roared in his ears, and he leaned forward and did the one thing he had longed to do in the library the other day.

The pair of lips that met his were stiff and dry, but he didn't give up. He pressed his lips against Grimmjow's for a little longer, and then he gingerly swiped his tongue across Grimmjow's lips. There was a hiss of breath, and then Grimmjow relaxed.

Ichigo felt as though he'd just won a prize.

And then he was suddenly choking, a thick arm pressed against his throat right under his chin, so hard that he thought his windpipe would get crushed. Grimmjow had moved so quickly that Ichigo didn't even know that he'd been spun around and pinned with his back against the wall until he suddenly couldn't breathe.

"Gri —" Ichigo croaked and immediately wished he hadn't, because the arm only pressed harder, and his air was completely cut off now.

"Don't play with fire, Kurosaki," Grimmjow warned. His voice was low, but it was harsher and more intimidating than Ichigo had ever heard him speak.

Ichigo could only blink. His face was getting very hot as his chest began to burn. _Air. I need air._

"You don't know me," Grimmjow grunted. "I'm not a nice guy."

 _I know, but I don't care!_ Ichigo screamed inside, but all he could do was blink rapidly, hoping that Grimmjow would take it as a signal that he needed to breathe. Desperately.

To his relief, Grimmjow did. He abruptly straightened up and pulled his arm back, and Ichigo immediately sagged against the wall. His hands flew to his throat and he gasped like a drowning man, coughing and sucking in oxygen in greedy breaths. _Fuck,_ his throat _hurt_.

By the time he stopped trembling, Grimmjow was already gone.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Grimmjow bent over the sink and spat, immediately staining the white porcelain with droplets of crimson. He hadn't even realized that, in his desperation to refrain himself from kissing back, he had bitten his own tongue. And now it throbbed in sync to his pulse, strong and more rapid than he would've liked.

He turned the faucet with way too much force and watched the water wash away the blood drops. A frown creased his brows; the pain was distracting but it wasn't strong enough to pull his attention away from the storm brewing inside his head. Breathing harshly, he gripped the sink and willed himself to calm down.

It wasn't working.

Hearing Ichigo's question — _do you like me?_ — was worse than being slapped in the face. Suddenly, he was thrust underneath a spotlight and he had nowhere to run except inside, and he didn't like what he saw inside, because now he was forced to face himself. Everything was laid out for him to see; his own weird reaction to Ichigo lying so close to him, the bizarre way he had pictured Ichigo in his bed, and most recently, the intense burst of flame in his gut when he thought some random guy was fooling around with the boy.

Did he like Ichigo?

A guttural groan left his throat as he leaned back against the tiled wall in his bathroom. That would be a disaster. He pounded his head against the wall and listened to the thumping sounds his head made against the cold, hard tiles.

All of a sudden, the fierce looks that he'd been getting from Ichigo made sense. Grimmjow wouldn't like it any better if the guy he liked kept pushing him to someone else. But all he had wanted to do was to give Renji a little alone time with his crush.

Yeah, the same crush who had just told Grimmjow that he liked him.

A little voice kept nagging him at the back of his mind: was his reason for avoiding Ichigo really that noble? Was it not because he'd rather not see his best friend all over Ichigo, _knowing_ full well that there was nothing he could do about it?

Ichigo was _Renji's_ , not his. His head needed to understand that.

In the meantime, he needed to get his mind off things.

Grabbing his keys, Grimmjow stalked out of his apartment and hopped onto his bike. Ten minutes later, he was outside the gym. He found a spot almost immediately and killed his engine, and then he searched the parking lot for that familiar black Honda Civic. He may not have gotten the guy's phone number — or name, for that matter — but he'd memorized the car plate when he led the guy back to his apartment the other day.

He leaned against the car and waited.

* * *

**One day later**

Ichigo winced when the ache on his neck flared up as he ran his fingers over the area. He wasn't even applying that much pressure. The first day, his throat had been raw and painful, but _now_ the bruise was really starting to show. He'd never been choked like this, ever. It _hurt_.

He didn't get it. Grimmjow hadn't said no; if anything, he had seemed receptive right up to the point he tried to kill him. He'd expected shock, perhaps denial, but not this. This was mixed signals to the max, and Ichigo couldn't be more confused and disappointed. Not to mention, his ego had suffered quite the blow.

Ichigo shuffled over to his closet and rummaged through his clothes until he finally settled on a turtleneck shirt. It wasn't suitable for the weather right now, but damn if he'd let anyone see those bruises. He didn't need an interrogation. Sighing, he wiggled into the stuffy top and finished dressing. If anyone asked, he'd just say he was feeling chilly.

That would fly if it wasn't eighty degrees outside.

He went through the first lesson without incident, and then Renji caught up to him while he was walking to the restroom. Ichigo wished he could feel irritated towards the redhead, but he just couldn't. Renji was way too nice; he was rough and not exactly the most observant, but he was cheerful and kind. Ichigo couldn't possibly be mad at the guy, especially not when he was feeling guilty.

He supposed he should tell Renji sooner or later that he wasn't interested. The redhead was a great friend to have, but Ichigo just wasn't feeling it. And of course, on top of that, he happened to like Renji's best friend. Just thinking about the complication behind the whole situation made his head hurt, so he decided to push it aside for the moment.

"Do you want to come over to play some video games today?" Renji asked him as they washed their hands at the sink next to each other.

"Nah, I have to finish up some homework," Ichigo said, giving Renji a half-hearted smile as he fidgeted a little. God, this stupid turtleneck top _itched_. "Thanks, though."

 _Damnit_. Ichigo caved; with a soft groan, he reached up to his collar and scratched his neck.

Renji was still smiling at him when the redhead suddenly stilled.

When the silence finally registered in Ichigo's head, he turned around and found Renji staring at him with an uncharacteristically serious face.

"What happened?" Renji asked, the playful glint missing in his eyes for once.

Ichigo swore inwardly and quickly pulled his collar up, but his wrist was suddenly grabbed tightly, and his collar was yanked down rudely.

"What's this?" the redhead's voice was tight, and he stared at Ichigo with a concerned frown that made Ichigo feel even guiltier.

"I, uh, fooled around with some friends," Ichigo lied, hoping that Renji wouldn't see the blush that was creeping up his neck. "You know, pretend-wrestle kind of stuff. It kinda…didn't go as planned. It was an accident."

Renji blinked. "You have other friends?"

If this came from anyone else, Ichigo would've been riled up, but this was Renji, and he was only being his usual direct self. The saddest thing of all was that he was right. Ichigo didn't have other friends aside from Renji and Grimmjow here. Ishida didn't count, because Ichigo was certain that the prude would never talk to him if not for the fact that they were lab partners.

Ichigo breathed out a dejected sigh and his shoulders slumped. He felt like a deflated balloon because Renji just successfully made him feel like a loser.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "You don't know them."

"Okay."

Renji still had Ichigo's collar in his hand, and at that moment, the room to the restroom swung open with a creak. And lo and behold, if it wasn't Ichigo's only other friend in Karakura.

"Hey!" Renji called out cheerfully. "You wanna come over today? I received that kick-ass game from Amazon yesterday, and I —"

Grimmjow cut him off with a curt reply. "Naw, I have practice today."

"Damn, you have practice everyday now?" Renji complained, finally letting go of Ichigo's collar.

Ichigo glared at Grimmjow, who blatantly ignored him, and then turned away to dry off his hands on his pants. He didn't see how Grimmjow's lips stretched into a thin line when the boy caught a brief glimpse of the bruise on his neck.

"Well, your loss," Renji teased as Grimmjow walked past them and went into a stall.

"Yeah," came the muffled reply.

With a shrug, Renji gestured for Ichigo to go before him, and the two of them left the restroom.

"Wonder what's up with Grimmjow," Renji mused out loud as they walked down the hallway.

Ichigo glanced at him. Renji's mouth was slightly downturned, the corners crinkled with worry. Not knowing how else to respond, Ichigo mumbled, "Yeah."

"But hey," Renji brightened up and raised his arms to lace his fingers behind his head. "That gives me more time to spend with _you_." And then he winked.

Ichigo cringed inside. Subtlety was definitely not one of Renji's strengths. He wasn't afraid to show Ichigo that he was interested, and Ichigo knew he was being an asshole by leading the poor guy on. But for the life of him, he didn't know how to break it to him without losing his friendship. If Ichigo didn't handle it properly and things went South, he would be left with _no_ friends, because he had no illusions about Grimmjow's "friendship".

The thought depressed him, and once again he told himself that he needed to figure his way out of this fragile tangle. Why the hell did it have to be so complicated?

* * *

Grimmjow stood in the bathroom stall and folded his arms over his chest. He really had no need for the stall, but he didn't think he could face Renji and Ichigo for another second. And so he waited — being the _brave_ soul that he was — until Renji and Ichigo's voices faded completely before stepping out and heading for the urinal.

Starrk — now he had a name to go with the face — had politely turned him down last night. It was embarrassing as hell, but Starrk had been really nice about it. He had said that Grimmjow's mental state was not suitable for this kind of activity right now, and went as far as to advise Grimmjow to spend the night "reflecting on things", as he had put it. And then he'd gotten into his car and winked at Grimmjow before peeling away from the parking lot.

With no other options, Grimmjow did just that, and what he found, he did not like.

When he saw that bruise on Ichigo's neck, he was shocked. He didn't think he had applied that much pressure, but the evidence said otherwise. He tried to ignore the fact that Renji's hand was practically on Ichigo's clothes, reminding himself that it was he who encouraged it in the first place.

Just because he liked Ichigo — yes, he had no choice but to admit it — didn't mean he could screw his best friend over. If it wasn't _Renji_ , he wouldn't think twice about it; but it was. He wouldn't be here if not for Renji; he'd sworn to stick by Renji for the rest of his life, and he wasn't about to break that vow now. Grimmjow was a lot of things, but he was not a traitor.

* * *

To ease his restlessness, Grimmjow chose to go for a run. It was evening, so it was just cool enough. He wouldn't get a heat stroke, and he'd get the chance to work off the tension in his muscles and, hopefully, the sights along the route would distract him. That's the one thing he didn't like about running in the gym; everything was so damn _static_. There was the machine, you, and a row of TVs. The _oomph_ was just not there.

His feet hit the ground in solid, full steps. The gravel crunched beneath him, and he was landing on his feet a little harder than he should; his knees was beginning to ache from the impact, but he relished in the ache. His muscles stretched and contracted, and his heart rate was going up, and up, and up as he went past yet another block.

The houses and trees flew past him as he pumped his legs and arms. He felt his hair bobbing in the air and he knew he would look funny when he stopped. But for now, he didn't care. He was entering yet another neighborhood; he could tell it was a different one based on the change of design of the houses. This one was pretty fancy, a little newer than the others that he'd just run by. His eyes fleeted from house to house, noting the silence in most of the houses.

Grimmjow shook his head. People were so busy nowadays that houses weren't _home_ anymore, it was simply a place to pass the night. At least, that's how he felt. His own parents had left for the United States when he started high school, finally able to pursue their dreams now that Grimmjow was older. His apartment was just somewhere to crash when he was tired, he certainly had no ties to that —

"Grimmjow?"

Startled, Grimmjow skidded to a halt. He swore he'd heard someone say his name, but he didn't see anyone. Then, his eyes finally picked out a figure standing under the porch of a house maybe ten, fifteen feet from where he was standing.

" _Ichigo?_ " In his surprise, Grimmjow forgot that he wasn't supposed to be talking to his best friend's love interest, whom he happened to have the hots for according to his brain. And then, when it finally registered, he turned around abruptly and resumed running.

"Hey!" He heard Ichigo shout, but he forced himself to ignore the boy. _Damnit_. Of all places to run, he had to run past the idiot's house?

He heard footsteps behind him and sped up. He knew without a doubt that it was Ichigo. The boy could be very persistent when he wanted to be. Breathing faster, Grimmjow increased his pace some more. He thought he was going to make it, but then he felt a vice-like grip on his elbow.

* * *

Ichigo glared at the teenager in his grip. Grimmjow's face was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, and he was breathing heavily through his mouth, his eyes narrowed and shooting daggers at Ichigo.

"Why do you keep running from me?" Ichigo demanded. "I know you heard what I said to you the other day."

Grimmjow continued to pant in silence with a scowl plastered firmly on his face.

"Are you such a chicken that you can't even respond properly to my question? You have to keep running away? If you don't like me —" Ichigo launched into a tirade, and would've continued if not for the face that was suddenly mere inches away from his.

Grimmjow had his fingers tangled in Ichigo's shirt as he pushed his face closer until their noses almost touched. "What did you just call me?"

Ichigo swallowed and refused to back down. Pulling his brows together, he said, "A chicken." He wasn't going to let Grimmjow get out of this one so easily. If he was going to be strangled or beaten up by saying this, then so be it. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up — Grimmjow was alone, and he didn't have to worry about making a scene in school.

There was a low growl, and Ichigo felt a puff of minty breath on his face, and then he was suddenly shoved backwards. For a few hair-raising seconds, he thought he was going to fall, but he managed to regain his balance. Grimmjow had turned his back and looked like he was going to take off again.

_Oh no you don't._

Ichigo lunged at Grimmjow, hitting him with his full weight, and the two boys fell forward, Ichigo on top of Grimmjow. Grimmjow let out a grunt and managed to break his fall with a roll, and Ichigo slid off and landed on his back. Air left his lungs with a painful whoosh and he lay there, stunned, for a few seconds. He heard scraping of feet, and Grimmjow was picking himself up from the ground and was about to run again.

"You're a coward!" Ichigo spat out through clenched teeth. "You're a fucking coward who can't face himself!"

Grimmjow froze.

Ichigo got to his feet and began to dust himself off. He was so angry that he didn't care what he was getting himself into anymore. If Grimmjow was going to bash his head into the ground, then he could do it. He was tired of this roundabout shit. He _knew_ Grimmjow was hiding from him, and with each passing day he was feeling more and more certain that Grimmjow was hiding because _he had hit the nail on the head._

He still wasn't a hundred percent certain, but nobody innocent would behave the way Grimmjow did.

It wasn't fair. Ichigo had set aside his pride and confessed, and even went as far as to ask the guy if the feeling as mutual. Was it that hard to respond? Be it rejection or a return of affection, it really should be quite straightforward. Grimmjow could've just straight-out rejected him, but he didn't, and that was the problem.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you okay?" a voice suddenly piped up behind the gate. That's when Ichigo realized that he and Grimmjow were standing in fighting stance right outside of his neighbor's house, making complete fools of themselves.

Ichigo looked at the little old lady and bowed apologetically. Then, with a determined frown and courage — or was it foolishness — born of anger, he grabbed Grimmjow and yanked him bodily towards his house.

* * *

Ichigo nearly lost his grip on Grimmjow's wrist a few times on the way, but he simply clamped down all the strength he could muster and held on fast. Finally, feeling like he had been dragging a wayward horse for the past five minutes, Ichigo managed to wrestle Grimmjow into the living room. That's when he let go.

He was expecting Grimmjow to bolt immediately, but Grimmjow didn't. He just stood in the middle of the room and glared at Ichigo as if he wanted nothing more than to tear the boy apart.

The staring match stretched on for seemingly forever, and then Grimmjow asked slowly, "What did you call me just now?" His voice dripped with danger; Ichigo would've flinched if he wasn't so blinded by rage.

"A coward," Ichigo replied.

The air seemed to freeze as Grimmjow's eyes darkened. "How _dare_ you," he breathed.

Ichigo was suddenly shoved backwards, hard. He tensed his leg muscles to stand his ground, but the momentum was just too great, and he stumbled backwards. The back of his thighs hit the couch with an audible smack, and he sat down in it, arms flailing as he went. He instinctively searched for something to hold on to, and his fingers latched onto the first thing they found.

Grimmjow's body lurched forward as Ichigo pulled him down by his sleeve. There was a yell — Ichigo wasn't sure who it belonged to — and he was suddenly looking up at Grimmjow's face, which was still flushed and sweaty from exertion. There was a small scrape along the boy's cheekbone, which Ichigo guessed he must've picked up during their scruffle outside. His thigh ached under the weight of a knee and his head was flanked by two outstretched hands as Grimmjow braced himself from collapsing on top of him. Ichigo had also raised his arm in defense, and now that hand was pressed palm-down against Grimmjow's chest, holding the boy away from him.

This was as good a time for further bickering as any other, but Ichigo found his throat tightening to the point that he could not make a sound, much less speak. Grimmjow seemed just as dumbstruck.

Ichigo held his breath as he registered the warmth in his palm. He could feel the beating of Grimmjow's heart beneath his shirt, and it was going at a rate that seemed like it was going to burst right through Grimmjow's chest. He knew his own pulse was racing too, but to feel another person's was a whole different story.

"Grimm…jow," Ichigo croaked, not really knowing why he needed to say the other's name. He just wanted to say _something_ because the tension in the air was getting oppressive and his lungs were beginning to burn.

There was a flash in the ocean-blue eyes in front of his face, and he felt the hair on his body stand as Grimmjow's chewing-gum laced breath blew on his face. Ichigo didn't know what was going on. Wasn't this what he had wanted — to be able to feel Grimmjow near him again instead of constantly running away?

This felt like the library incident all over again, except this time Grimmjow was towering over him, completely covering his slimmer frame with his broader, more muscular one. This would be the perfect chance to do what he'd wanted to do in the library, but Ichigo couldn't find the strength to move. He felt like a cornered mouse.

And all this while, that minty breath kept getting closer and closer.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

Grimmjow knew he was probably cross-eyed by now from the way he was staring at Ichigo. The boy's eyes were wide, and the pupils were dilated, giving away the boy's state of mind. And he was so close, _so close_ that Grimmjow could smell the citrusy scent from Ichigo's hair.

_So close._

Grimmjow didn't realize that he had been moving towards Ichigo until he felt blunt nails digging into his chest. He glanced down at the hand that was clutching the front of his shirt, and when he looked back up again, he realized that Ichigo was staring at him just as intensely. The boy's lips were slightly parted as he drew in harsh breaths through his mouth.

"Shit," Grimmjow muttered, and then he closed his eyes and leaned forward.

He heard a soft gurgling sound as he brushed up against Ichigo's lips; the boy seemed to have frozen in place, it was almost funny. Grimmjow took advantage of Ichigo's already-open mouth and pulled the boy's upper lip between his own, tugging on it not unlike reeling in a prey at the end of a fishing line. In this case, the prey was a very stunned, very red Ichigo.

And then, like someone being slowly dragged out from a deep sleep, Ichigo leaned in and closed his lower lip over Grimmjow's. The heat from Ichigo's body drifted into Grimmjow's face, wringing a rumbling growl from the back of Grimmjow's throat. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the temperature in the room seemed to have suddenly increased. The warmth from Ichigo's lips spread from his mouth to his cheeks, down his neck, and as he angled his head and pressed deeper into the kiss, the warmth sneaked its way to his southern regions and pooled there.

But much as he wanted to go even deeper, Grimmjow realized how awkward their position was; he was far too tall even hunched over, and Ichigo was slumped almost bonelessly on the couch — it could be that the boy was still shocked, or maybe he had melted from the kiss, Grimmjow wasn't sure which. It made him want to laugh but he couldn't, because his mind was too busy searching for a way to release all that pent-up need that was now _so close_ to the surface.

One of Grimmjow's hand left the sofa and tangled in Ichigo's vibrant shock of hair, and then, he half guided, half pulled Ichigo to the side so that the boy was lying on his back across the couch. Then, Grimmjow climbed onto the couch and settled over Ichigo, trying hard to straddle the boy's thighs while maintaining his balance. It was easier said than done.

Propped on one elbow, Grimmjow dove in greedily and claimed Ichigo's mouth again. This time, Ichigo had completely awakened; without needing an invitation from Grimmjow, Ichigo parted his lips. Their tongues touched, lazily at first, but it became increasingly urgent when Ichigo let out moan after moan, all whispered but no less lustful.

Just as the fire dancing in Grimmjow's gut slowly built up into a strong flame, his elbow slipped and he gracelessly lost his balance for a few seconds, nearly sliding off the inconveniently narrow couch.

"Fuck this," Grimmjow announced as he raised himself up to his knees, one hand clutching the back of the sofa for support.

He heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked giggle, and he glared down at Ichigo, who had tucked his lips between his teeth and was clearly fighting very hard not to laugh. Grimmjow knew he must be the source of the laughter because he could feel the flush on his cheeks. His hair must be sticking up in a million directions, and he was almost certain that he was shaking, because he sure was feeling frustrated as hell.

With a huff, Grimmjow got off the couch and dragged Ichigo with him; both of them slid down to the carpeted floor, and Grimmjow sat with his back against the couch. He yanked Ichigo onto his lap and immediately pulled him close, one hand buried deeply in the boy's hair, the other gripping the boy's thigh. Their lips brushed up against each other, just barely touching; for a while they sat there like this, letting their breaths mingle as they teased each other with their distance. But the moment didn't last long because Grimmjow couldn't hold himself back anymore.

Once the dam was broken, the need that had been simmering beneath burst forth, and he latched onto Ichigo's lips, sucking and nipping at the soft skin. He heard a gasp from the slimmer boy, and the sound urged him on. He wanted to hear more, _more_. And that was exactly what he got when he moved his lips to Ichigo's neck, alternating between sucking on the soft skin and letting his teeth graze it. There would be marks, he knew, but it didn't mean he cared.

"Pants," Grimmjow muttered as he pulled away from Ichigo, but he didn't bother waiting for a reply. He looked down and began to fumble with Ichigo's buckle and zipper, his forehead bumping into Ichigo's face as he did so. He could hear Ichigo panting softly next to his ear, and that just made him even more desperate to get inside the boy's pants, which finally happened after a few more seconds of cussing and tugging.

"Ah." Grimmjow heard a surprised gasp in his ear as he slid his very hot, very needy hand over the equally hot length that had been suffering painfully inside Ichigo's boxers. He wrapped his fingers around the hard yet fragile part of Ichigo and started stroking it, earning himself another gasp that was quickly followed by a steel-like grip on both of his shoulders. Feeling Ichigo throb in his hand made him want to groan out loud even though he wasn't getting any relief himself yet, but he settled for a breathless "Fuck" instead. This position was still less than ideal — there was just too much fabric between them.

"Take this off," Grimmjow ordered, trying his damnest to keep his voice even under the circumstances.

Ichigo got to his feet, wobbling a little from excitement and dizziness from standing up so suddenly. But he did manage to wiggle himself out of his skinny jeans. At the same time, Grimmjow raised his butt off the floor and slid out of his basketball shorts. And then, still in their boxers, they were pressed together again; Grimmjow raised his knees to give some support to Ichigo while the boy sat in his lap and ground himself against Grimmjow's straining front.

No words were exchanged, but at this point they were unnecessary anyway. Locking eyes with the teen sitting in his lap, Grimmjow reached between them and yanked their boxers down just enough to expose themselves. Then, he wrapped his large hand around both of them. He could never forget the way Ichigo's mouth fell open at the contact, but at that moment all he did was tighten his fist, and then he began to pump, crushing them together and building hot, delicious friction.

The grip on his shoulders left, and then Ichigo's hands were suddenly holding Grimmjow's head tightly as he leaned in. Grimmjow tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth, welcoming the eager tongue that had been probing between his lips. It was all saliva and warm breaths, and it couldn't be better.

Grimmjow let his hand work faster, and he felt Ichigo bucking in his lap, thrusting vigorously into his hand and rubbing against him. It felt so good that it was almost painful, and Grimmjow quickened his pace some more. He raised his hips off the carpet and moved along with Ichigo, unconsciously trying to find the same rhythm.

And then the iron grip on his shoulders returned; Ichigo's fingers curled and dug painfully into Grimmjow's flesh as he inched closer to release. The pain went straight to Grimmjow's groin, and he knew he was almost at his breaking point.

"C'mon," Grimmjow breathed into Ichigo's mouth. They weren't really kissing at this point, more like bumping against each other's lips almost clumsily, both straining to reach their peaks.

It was Ichigo who got there first; he gave one last thrust into Grimmjow's fist, and then he stiffened for a few heartbeats. Then, his bones seemed to melt as all the tension left his body. As he shuddered, Ichigo let out a long, drawn out moan that pushed Grimmjow over, and Grimmjow came almost violently, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he spilled himself all over his fist and everything in it.

Groaning, Grimmjow let his head fall back against the couch. He grunted as the air left his lungs when Ichigo fell forward and collapsed on his chest, and then he moved his hand from Ichigo's thigh to the small of the boy's back, essentially holding Ichigo in an embrace. A very sticky, sweaty one.

"Mmm…" Ichigo murmured against Grimmjow's neck. And then he hiccuped.

* * *

Ichigo stared at the mirror in horror — more specifically, he stared at his neck in the reflection. Time to bring out that turtleneck shirt again.

But this time, as he pulled the top over his head, he couldn't be happier. He would gladly wear turtlenecks everyday, for the rest of his life, if it meant he could do _that_ with Grimmjow again.

He had been mortified when the first thing out of his mouth was a hiccup after they eventually calmed down. It was _beyond_ embarrassing. But instead of the teasing that he was expecting, Grimmjow had laughed. His laughter was deep and infectious, and Ichigo found himself chuckling along. And then, the laughter died in his throat when Grimmjow suddenly went pale.

Grimmjow had a tan, so when he went pale, it was scary.

**The previous evening...**

_"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked, his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach._

_But he knew the answer even before Grimmjow replied. All that sexual tension had dissipated after their intense orgasms, and now, whatever that had been pushed to the back of Grimmjow's mind returned._

_"Fuck," Grimmjow muttered, his head still resting limply against the couch. And then he said it again, louder, "Fuck." It was followed by an even louder "Fuck, Ichigo!"_

_The fact that he said "Ichigo" instead of his usual "Kurosaki" was comforting, but the look on his face wasn't. His brows were drawn together in a frown, and his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that the corners of his eyes became all crinkled._

_Ichigo felt blood drain from his own face, and his heartbeat, which had just begun to slow down, picked up again. Of course. Grimmjow was now sexually satisfied, so of course his mind went to his best friend again. Ichigo started to panic, and his grip tightened on Grimmjow's shoulders. What if Grimmjow regretted what they just did? What if Grimmjow blamed Ichigo for getting between him and Renji?_

_"Shit," Grimmjow swore again._

_Visibly shaking now, Ichigo tried to stand up. He couldn't take this; it had felt so good, he didn't think he could handle the sudden crash to earth so soon after his high._

_But Grimmjow grabbed his wrists. "Where are you going?"_

_"I don't know, anywhere…" Ichigo mumbled. He didn't know what else to say. He had no idea where he could go, all he knew was he didn't want to sit here and listen to Grimmjow cuss again._

_Grimmjow frowned, and then his eyes widened as if he just had an epiphany. "Do you really think that I'd do this to you?" Grimmjow asked fiercely. "Just…walk out on you now and pretend that nothing had happened?" He got onto his feet._

_"I don't know," Ichigo replied, and then he said something that was true but also very stupid given the circumstances. "You've been running away all this while."_

_Grimmjow stiffened, and Ichigo thought for a moment that the guy was going to kill him. But after a pause, Grimmjow simply sighed. "I know I've been an ass to you," he said. "But this is…things are different now. What we just did…" He rubbed his face, seemingly at a loss for words. There was a long stretch of nervous silence_ — _at least on Ichigo's part, and then Grimmjow continued, "I just don't know what to say to Renji."_

_"We don't have to let him know yet," Ichigo blurted. His cheeks immediately began to heat up in shame. He sounded like such a coward for saying this. "We'll think of something eventually," he added, but even he knew that it sounded lame._

_Grimmjow didn't disagree, but it was obvious that he felt much, much worse about doing this compared to Ichigo. He looked so stricken that Ichigo couldn't help but walk up to him and pull him into a hug. He didn't know if it was because they both wanted a distraction or if they were still aroused, but the hug eventually became a peck on the lips, which morphed into a very wet, very heated kiss, and finally, led them to Ichigo's bedroom._

Now, staring into the mirror, Ichigo still didn't know what to do. He was certain that Grimmjow didn't, either. A beep told him that he was almost out of time, so he quickly brushed his teeth and prepared to face the day.

* * *

Being around Renji was agonizing to say the least. Ichigo felt stiff just maintaining a neutral expression on his face as he walked next to the boy on the way to class. What made it worse was how happy Renji seemed. He blabbered on and on about the new video game that he tried out last evening, and how Ichigo and Grimmjow had missed out by not going over to his place to play it with him. Just _knowing_ that Renji had been innocently enjoying his game while he was having the time of his life on Grimmjow's lap made Ichigo want to throw up.

"You _have_ to come over this weekend," Renji told Ichigo, his usual shit eating grin plastered on his handsome face. Then, he draped his arm over Ichigo's shoulders and added, "It'll be fun, I promise."

Ichigo turned to look at the redhead, and it was all he could do not to fall apart and beg for forgiveness on the spot. Renji's face was bright and expectant, and so damn _innocent_ that it made Ichigo's gut twist with shame and guilt. Swallowing dryly, Ichigo gently freed himself from Renji's arm. He couldn't take this physical closeness now, not after sharing something so intimate with the redhead's best friend.

"Is something wrong?" Renji asked, his voice full of concern. He looked a bit hurt that Ichigo had moved his arm away, but even so, he sounded more concerned than hurt. That just pushed Ichigo that much closer to breaking down.

"Renji," he said, sucking in a deep breath. He couldn't tell Renji about Grimmjow, not yet, but he could at least stop leading the guy on. "I…I've been thinking…I think we should just be friends."

Renji's face fell.

Ichigo added quickly, "You're a great friend. I'm serious, you're funny, generous, kind —"

"It's okay, Ichigo," Renji gently touched his forearm. He was smiling, but Ichigo could see the strain on the corners of the redhead's mouth. "I can handle it. It's all part and parcel of life, yeah?"

Ichigo felt like an ass, but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel relieved that Renji didn't ask him for details. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and gave Renji a small smile.

"This doesn't mean you won't be coming over this weekend though, right?" Renji asked, his voice sincere and serious.

If Ichigo was slightly weaker, this would be where he'd burst into tears. How could anyone be so…innocent? "Yeah, I'll be there," he said.

* * *

Grimmjow killed his engine, but he remained on his bike. One of his arms was still on the handlebar, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. This was it — he was going to see Renji for the first time after he betrayed him.

Renji had called him a couple of hours ago. When Grimmjow recognized his best friend's "I'm having a bad day and I need you" voice, he immediately knew that Ichigo had delivered his rejection.

They had talked about this last night. They would keep their relationship under the radar for now, but Ichigo needed to tell Renji that he wasn't interested. He knew that Renji would pour his heart out to him when it happened, and he'd been dreading it, but Renji was his best friend.

Finally, figuring that he had stalled long enough, Grimmjow got off his bike and headed for Renji's apartment unit. They had each other's spare key, so he simply let himself in. Renji was sprawled on the couch with a half-emptied bottle of beer in his hand. He looked up and thrust the beer bottle in the air as greeting, and Grimmjow walked over and sat down next to his friend. The redhead's cheeks were pink, but he looked sober.

"Hey," Grimmjow said.

"I failed," Renji mumbled before taking a generous sip from his bottle.

Grimmjow looked down at his hands and resisted the urge to puke. "I'm sorry, man," he said quietly. _I'm sorry I stole Ichigo, I'm sorry I slept with him, I'm sorry I betrayed you._

Of course Renji couldn't have guessed how deep Grimmjow's apology was. He grinned at Grimmjow and slapped his best friend's arm. "He said I'm a good friend," he said. "I think he really meant it."

Grimmjow look at his friend and nodded, hoping that Renji wouldn't notice how stiff he was.

"He's coming over this Saturday," Renji announced. "Is it stupid that I don't want to stop being friends with him?"

"No," Grimmjow offered.

"Oh." Renji's grin widened. "Good, then."

By then, Grimmjow was breathing so hard through his nose that he was surprised that Renji didn't comment on it. It just showed how upset Renji was behind his cheerful facade, and it made Grimmjow feel like dirt. No, even dirt had more value than he did.

"Halo?" Renji slid off the couch and went to his XBOX console. He turned it on, and then, without waiting for Grimmjow's reply, threw one of the controllers onto the couch.

Grimmjow picked it up.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Two months later**

"Ah," Ichigo whispered, his eyes wide. He lifted his head off the mattress and stared down between his legs, willing himself _not_ to blink.

This sight was too hot, too precious to miss, even for a second.

The pressure around him suddenly increased, and he couldn't help but groan, the sounds spilling out in an uncontrolled flow. He felt himself slide deeper into that warm, wet bliss, and he squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall back onto his pillow. Unconsciously, his fist tightened, tugging rudely on the shock of bright blue hair currently buried in his crotch. It was getting difficult to breathe; he was on fire, the flame spreading at an alarming rate to his limbs, slowly pushing him to the point of shaking.

"S-stop," Ichigo moaned, but at the same time he arched his back, effectively forcing himself into Grimmjow's mouth. "Sh-shit!" He mustn't come yet, they'd just gotten started, _he mustn't come mustn't come mustn't come_. But of course it was too late by then. With a choked-off cry that sounded almost like a sob, Ichigo stiffened. He heard a muffled grunt from Grimmjow, and then he felt himself throb rapidly, filling Grimmjow's mouth with liquid warmth.

"Shit, I-I'm s-sorry," Ichigo mumbled as Grimmjow pulled away. The blue-haired teenager's nose was wrinkled, and he wore an unreadable expression on his face.

Ichigo didn't blame him. After all, this was the first time Grimmjow went down on him. Well, scratch that — this was the first time Grimmjow went down on _anyone_. Ichigo had been disappointed when he found out that Grimmjow had an aversion to oral sex; oh, he was perfectly fine with receiving it, it was the _giving_ part that made him squeamish. But Ichigo had understood and accepted it; everybody had different preferences, he could live with this.

And then Grimmjow went and surprised him with _this_. He had shown up around late morning and told Ichigo that he had a "present" for him. It turned out that Grimmjow had been thinking about this for a while, and he'd just finished "teaching" himself with the help of a video, and now he was horny as hell. Ichigo was more than happy to oblige.

It was a Sunday, and Ichigo was alone at home because his dad had taken his two sisters to visit an aunt who lived two hours away from Karakura. In other words, he had the house to himself until at least late evening. It couldn't have been more perfect.

Ichigo was feeling absolutely embarrassed now. He had lasted, what, two minutes tops?

"God, how the fuck do you do this?" Grimmjow asked, that funny look still plastered on his face. He crawled towards Ichigo's face, his lips slightly swollen and red from all that hard work.

Ichigo cracked his eyes open and peeked at his boyfriend. "What?"

Grimmjow collapsed next to Ichigo with a groan. " _This._ It's fucking gross," he complained, smacking his lips. But there was no heat in his voice, and Ichigo could see a playful glint in those striking blue eyes. "I can't believe you put yourself through this all the time. For _me._ "

Ichigo grinned. Grimmjow sounded awed, perhaps even touched. _How sweet._

It had been a month since they first went all the way, but even before then, Ichigo had gone down on Grimmjow several times. Grimmjow had enjoyed those immensely, and it looked like he would appreciate them even more from now on.

The first time they really slept together had been the night before Ichigo's birthday. It was a Friday, and Ichigo had told his dad that a friend was going to stay over to celebrate it. His dad was okay with it; at least he didn't have to worry about his son running around outside getting drunk on his birthday.

That had been an _amazing_ night. Grimmjow was strong, passionate, and it showed in every kiss and every move. Ichigo had wanted to scream so much, but he couldn't, because his dad and his sisters were home. By the time they were done, he had been close to tears from holding them in.

Ichigo wasn't a virgin, but he felt like one next to his more experienced, more skillful boyfriend. Before transferring to Karakura, he'd fooled around once with an older student — a teaching assistant in Shuuhei's advanced statistics class. A tall, muscular man named Kensei. It had been a one-time thing; Ichigo was young, inexperienced, and very curious. It had been more of an experiment than anything else. Ichigo never told anyone, not even Rukia.

Kensei was good, but he wasn't _Grimmjow_ -good.

"Spacing out on me?" Grimmjow asked next to Ichigo's ear, pulling his attention back to the present.

Ichigo laughed. "Not really," he said, turning to his side so that he could look into Grimmjow's eyes. "I was just thinking about the night before my birthday."

One corner of Grimmjow's mouth immediately curled into a cocky smirk.

Ichigo laughed again and dug his fingers into Grimmjow's ribs, making the boy yelp and squirm. It was funny how ticklish Grimmjow was, given how tough he looked.

"This is the first time we're alone in the house," Grimmjow commented. Despite the nonchalant tone in his voice, he couldn't suppress the lewd grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ichigo feigned innocence.

"Hah," Grimmjow said, his voice low and husky. He raised himself up and rolled on top of Ichigo, trapping the slimmer teen beneath him. "You can scream all you want today, Ichigo. Nobody will hear."

Ichigo blushed so fiercely that it felt as though the tips of his ears had turned into torches. He had almost forgotten that Grimmjow was still waiting; the evidence of that was now poking his thigh and rubbing against his groin. Just that sensation alone was enough to make Ichigo hard again.

"Shut the fuck up," Ichigo murmured and pulled Grimmjow closer to him. A low moan left Ichigo's throat when Grimmjow ran his hand along Ichigo's side, his calloused palm leaving a trail of lingering heat on Ichigo's skin.

"Language," Grimmjow drawled against Ichigo's lips, wringing a half-moan, half-laugh from the boy.

Ichigo curled his legs around Grimmjow's waist and raised his hips, brushing harder against Grimmjow. Hot skin slid on hot skin, creating friction that was slowly driving them into a frenzy. It was clear that neither could stand the suspense for much longer, even though they really wanted to make this last.

"I can't —" Grimmjow gasped, resting his forehead against Ichigo's. Ichigo could feel the tremor in Grimmjow's muscles as the boy took in ragged breath after ragged breath, trying his damnest to hold his desperation at bay but quickly failing.

Ichigo snickered even though he was not that far from losing control himself. He raised his hand over his head and fumbled blindly for the bottle that he'd tossed there earlier. His fingers found it, and he immediately pressed the bottle into Grimmjow's palm. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Ichigo released Grimmjow from the clutches of his legs. Grimmjow climbed to his knees, leaving Ichigo suddenly cold and bare.

Ichigo's eyes brightened at the soft popping sound of the bottle cap being replaced, and he propped himself up. Just watching Grimmjow slicking up his fingers was almost enough to get him off already. He bit his lower lip and helped himself to fistfuls of bed sheet, hoping that these little actions would distract him.

Of course it didn't work, because the moment he felt Grimmjow's cold, wet fingers, he jumped and gasped like he had just been electrocuted. The sight of Grimmjow's digits disappearing into him made him quiver, and he strained and strained to keep his hips still. It didn't help that those long, skilled fingers were now massaging all his sensitive places, and Grimmjow was making harsh panting sounds that went straight to the heat already building up between his legs.

 _"_ I'm r-ready, hurry!" Ichigo croaked, reaching for Grimmjow's messy, bed-tossed hair. "I'm g-gonna…agh!" Ichigo's hand shot out to grab Grimmjow's wrist as he felt himself twitch. He was teetering too close to the edge now; if Grimmjow didn't stop, he would have to bear the shame of coming twice before Grimmjow was even inside of him.

Ichigo fell back onto his bed as Grimmjow reared up on his knees and pushed his legs apart. He swallowed and forced himself to calm down, but all his body wanted to do now was tremble in anticipation. There was the familiar burn, the dull, throbbing ache, and then Ichigo cried out as Grimmjow's hips slammed into his. He was on fire, on fire, on fire, being burned alive as his body rocked violently in time with Grimmjow's thrusts. He was moaning freely now; this would definitely earn him a good teasing at the end of this all, but he could care less.

As if sensing that Ichigo was about to snap, Grimmjow murmured, "Wait for me, wait for me." Ichigo nearly whimpered at the notion of the impossible task; all he could do was to chant "hurry, hurry" like a mantra and hold on for dear life.

And then there was a growl and a sharp pain on the junction of his neck, and Ichigo screamed, arching his back and pressing himself flush against Grimmjow's chest. He screamed through the pulsing heat deep inside of him, through Grimmjow's hoarse, broken grunts by his neck, even through his own release, and then he fell limp.

* * *

Ichigo was amazed that they'd managed to keep it under wraps for two whole months now. As far as he could tell, Renji didn't have a clue. He was relieved, yet it made him ache even more because he knew that it wasn't because Renji was dense. It was because the redhead had absolute trust in them, especially Grimmjow, that he probably wouldn't even believe it if someone told him about it.

Grimmjow knew, too, because Ichigo noticed that he would suddenly become silent sometimes. It sucked, but Ichigo knew they brought it upon themselves. The issue was there, standing around them like the proverbial elephant in the room but neither wanted to be the one to bring it up. Ichigo knew they were both being cowards, but he just couldn't bring himself to face Renji.

A cheerful chirp from his laptop told him that he had a new instant message.

_[ Rukia: You can't keep running like this, Ichigo. ]_

Ichigo stared at his screen. Rukia had been telling him that for _weeks_ , and Ichigo could tell that she was getting pissed by the way she used his name instead of her usual pet names for him. He sucked in a deep breath and began typing.

_[ Ichigo: I know. ]_

_[ Rukia: Then what the fuck are you waiting for? ]_

Ichigo grimaced. Yes, Rukia was _royally_ pissed. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few long seconds, and then, with a tired sigh, he closed the lid of his laptop.

* * *

"Life sucks," Renji announced.

Grimmjow eyed his red-haired best friend, who was currently sprawled lazily on the couch. Renji was looking at the TV, but obviously his mind was not there.

Two months. Two whole months, and Renji had not gotten any better.

Some days were better than others. Today was not one of those days, unfortunately. Renji had skipped classes, so Grimmjow decided to skip too, just to keep him company. They were sitting in Renji's apartment, lounging around on the soft, well-worn sofas. If Grimmjow pretended hard enough, he could almost believe this was just like old times.

Except it _wasn't_. Grimmjow had never seen Renji like this before. It wasn't like this was the first time Renji was rejected. Grimmjow knew that Renji had been smitten with Ichigo, but he hadn't expected _this_.

"Why do I suck at stuff like this?" came Renji's voice. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, but Grimmjow supposed depression made people philosophical too.

Grimmjow swallowed. His throat hurt; it felt like there was something lodged in his throat, it wouldn't go down and refused to come up. Stuck, just like his mind. Torn between his feelings for Ichigo and his loyalty to his best friend. There were days when he almost told Ichigo that they shouldn't see each other anymore, but when he saw Ichigo's warm caramel eyes, he knew he couldn't do it. He would kill himself before hurting that boy.

He was close to caving, he knew. One day he was just going to drop to his knees and tell Renji everything, and then hope that the end would come swiftly. He was ashamed that he was so weak. Ichigo was right; he was a coward. A coward who didn't have the guts to face himself, a coward who was now sitting next to his best friend and watching him die a little each day.

* * *

**One week later**

When Grimmjow received that telephone call, he frowned; he didn't recognize the number. Thinking it was a telemarketer, he answered it, colorful words already forming on the tip of his tongue.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other side was soft, the background noise making it almost impossible for Grimmjow to make out the words. "Is this G-Grimjau Jaggerjacks-san?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at the mutilation of his name. "Yeah, and whatever you're selling, I'm not interested," he said.

The voice paused, and then said, "I'm calling from Karakura General Hospital, Jaggerjacks-san."

Grimmjow immediately paled. He could almost _hear_ the rush of his blood leaving his face. "Who..." _Please, not Ichigo not Ichigo not Ichigo not Ichigo._

"I found you listed as Abarai Renji-san's emergency contact," the lady from the hospital said evenly. "He was in an accide—"

Grimmjow took off running, his mind already shutting down before the lady could finish her sentence.

* * *

"I _told_ you this is nothing, man," Renji griped, annoyed and embarrassed by his best friend's dramatic reaction.

Grimmjow had stumbled into his hospital ward looking as though Renji had died. When he saw that the redhead was conscious and very much alive, his shoulders sagged so suddenly that he looked shorter by at least three inches. Then, he had marched up to Renji's bed and stood there, his hands clutching the bed rails to tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He couldn't look into Renji's eyes. _How could he?_ How could he face his best friend when he knew that he and Ichigo were the ones responsible for making him so upset — so upset that he would walk into the street and get hit by a car? Technically it was just Ichigo, but as far as Grimmjow was concerned, he was just as guilty, if not more. What if Renji had died? He could've been run over by a truck, could've become paralyzed, could've...there were just too many possibilities, each one more horrifying than the last.

He stood there, stiff and silent as a marble statue, unable to say a word because his throat had seized up. In fact, it seemed like his _entire body_ had seized up; his hands refused to budge from the metal railing, his feet were glued to the floor, and hie chest felt like it was going to collapse onto itself.

"Dude, it's just a minor fracture," Renji said, gesturing to his arm, which was wrapped in a cast. "What the hell's wrong with you? Disappointed that I'm alive?" He chuckled at his own morbid joke, oblivious to the way Grimmjow flinched when he heard it.

Grimmjow's mind was a jumbled mess; he was panicking inside, completely overwhelmed by shame and fear and anger. His mind was beginning to buckle under the weight. He was _beyond_ furious at himself. How had he allowed himself to go this far? What kind of best friend was he? How could he have knowingly stolen what was Renji's and claim it as his own? And then doing everything that he'd been doing behind his friend's back... He felt sick to the stomach.

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't do this and remain sane.

_I'm sorry, Ichigo._

* * *

Stories always sounded more dramatic when someone else told it, especially when it'd been told multiple times. _All he did_ was accidentally veer too far off the pavement, and it just so happened that there was an oncoming car. It didn't even hit him. He'd panicked, backpedaled, and ended up tripping over himself and landing on his elbow. Bad luck — that was all there was to it.

Renji closed his eyes and sighed. This sucked; it meant that he would have to miss a few soccer matches. But then again, he'd hardly been going to soccer practice anymore that Coach Kenpachi had probably fired his ass by now and was simply too lazy to inform him.

What _really_ irked him, though, was the thing that had caused him to veer off the pavement. _The thing_ had straight, jaw-length black hair that was so neat it made Renji's teeth hurt whenever he saw it. It also wore those thick, rectangular eyeglasses that gave it that air of superiority that Renji hated so much. And god, _those fucking arrogant eyes!_ Those eyes always looked at him like he wasn't worth a dime. Sometimes he wished he could break it, just grab it and pound it into pieces until it stopped looking at him like that. If he hadn't happened to catch those eyes staring at him across the road, he wouldn't have lost his concentration and went off onto the street, and he wouldn't have to bear the shame of depending on it to call for an ambulance, nor would he have to bear the shame of being looked at like he was some stupid idiot who couldn't even walk in a straight line.

As if that wasn't bad enough for his pride, he _knew_ he could never truly get those eyes — those sharp, intelligent eyes — out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. He had hoped that Ichigo would cleanse his head of such futile thoughts; there was just absolutely _no way_ that he could accept the way _the thing_ made his insides quiver. Every time he heard that smooth, know-it-all voice in class, he would imagine how it would sound like if he were to touch it _that way_. Would it let go for once, relinquish that unnaturally controlled discipline, just once? Whenever his mind wandered down that road, he would picture Ichigo's kind, warm eyes, and he would feel better, only to wander back there when those eyes roam in his direction.

And he absolutely _hated_ how it always looked unfazed while he got all restless and awkward during the rare times they crossed paths. Like that time when it nonchalantly boasted that it was going to the debate championship...

Unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable.

Without Ichigo to occupy his mind now, he was quickly becoming overwhelmed; he'd even resorted to skipping school, how lame was that? He was glad that Grimmjow seemed to think that he was still moping around over Ichigo. He shuddered at the thought of Grimmjow finding out about this; he would become a _freak_ in his best friend's eyes. Who the hell in his right mind would feel this way about a world-class tight-ass?

_Ah, speak of the devil._

The door to Renji's hospital ward swung open, and a raven-haired teenager walked in. He posture was perfect, his footsteps light and elegant, his hair tucked behind one ear. Renji's teeth ached.

"What are you doing here, Ishida?" Renji huffed. He didn't want to sound like he was sulking, but it came out sounding like he was. _Damn_.

"I'm happy to see you too," Ishida said dryly. Ignoring the dagger-like glares aimed for his face, he glided over to the redhead's bed and sat down on the chair next to it. He swung the backpack that was on his back into his lap and began to pull its contents out.

"What the hell are you doing?" Renji stared at the text books in bewilderment.

Ishida sighed and looked at him, making him feel dumb all over again. "I'm making sure that you don't get kicked out of school for not doing your homework."

Renji thought his eyes would fall out of their sockets. "What?"

"Did you land on your head too, Abarai?" Ishida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Renji pursed his lips, resisting the urge to sock the other boy in the jaw. He opened his mouth to retort, but then those eyes landed on him and stole his tongue.

_Unacceptable._

* * *

**To be continued...**

**So how many of you are surprised? I've actually had this planned all along...remember the first chapter where Renji appeared flustered when Grimmjow asked him how he knew about the debate championship? ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

Ichigo sat up abruptly at the sound of a doorbell. He blinked, suddenly uncertain of his surroundings, then it slowly came back; he had been studying — trying to, anyway — but he must've somehow dozed off. He was confused for a second, unsure if the doorbell was real or part of his dream, and then his eyes fell on the glowing lock screen of his iPhone.

Of course — he had just changed the notification tone for text messages to the doorbell sound, and he was still getting used to it. Chuckling at his own silliness, he reached out to grab his phone.

_Grimmjow: Coming over in 10._

Ichigo smiled. They hadn't had much time for each other in the past week. Through unspoken agreement, Grimmjow and Ichigo never showed up at the hospital to visit Renji at the same time. They'd never explicitly talked about it, but both knew that they wouldn't be able to act naturally around the redhead in such an environment. Hanging out for lunch, playing video games, a little bit of soccer here and there — those were different. Being in a small, quiet room with just the three of them — that's too intimate for now.

Before he knew it, he heard the _real_ doorbell, and he jogged downstairs to greet the boy he'd been waiting for. Grimmjow was wearing a plain, grey v-neck t-shirt that hugged his toned figure in all the right places, his style simple but no less attractive in Ichigo's eyes. His well-worn black jeans sat low on his hips, and his hands were currently buried deep inside those pockets.

Ichigo's grin faltered a little when Grimmjow seemed to hesitate before stepping inside, but he figured today was one of those days. Renji's accident sat on their conscience even though Ichigo's logical mind told him that it was not their fault. Would this incident been avoided if he wasn't seeing Grimmjow secretly? He didn't think so, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Ichigo was not alarmed when Grimmjow was silent all the way to his bedroom, but when the boy was still as stiff and quiet when he brushed up against his lips, Ichigo began to worry.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling his head back but keeping his hands wrapped loosely around Grimmjow's waist.

Grimmjow looked like he had just swallowed a whole pineapple and was about to puke it out.

"What?" Ichigo was panicking now. He had never seen Grimmjow like that before, and he just asked about the first thing that came to his mind, "Is Renji okay? Did something happen to him?"

Grimmjow closed his eyes for second, then, just as Ichigo was about to shake him, he said, "We can't do this anymore."

Ichigo felt like he'd just been shot. His hands fell limp and he took a step back. He was _beyond_ stunned — out of everything he'd been running through his mind, this was one that never occurred to him. He stared at Grimmjow and blinked, and then he blinked some more, just to make sure that Grimmjow wasn't joking. There was no trace of humor in those baby blue eyes, just a sense of helplessness and regret — which was exactly what Ichigo was feeling right now.

"W-what?"

Grimmjow sucked in a deep breath, and then exhaled. "I...I can't do this anymore, Ichigo." He licked his lips, but his eyes never left Ichigo's face. "I can't do this when I know he wants you..."

Ichigo fought the urge to scream. "What about _me?_ I don't want _him!_ I want _you!_ Doesn't that count for something?" he asked as calmly as he could, but his breathing had gotten out of control, his chest heaving like he was close to having a panic attack. "Let's just tell him about us! It's not too late to tell him!"

"I...I can't t-take what's his," Grimmjow croaked, his voice finally breaking. His jaw was tense, and he still looked like he had a pineapple in his throat, but his eyes — Ichigo could see the helplessness dissipating. The regret was still there, but there was an air of finality in there.

Breathing harshly through his mouth, Ichigo closed his eyes to collect himself, and then he lost it. "I'm not some kind of _object_ that you can give to someone, Grimmjow!" Ichigo yelled, not caring that he was spitting into Grimmjow's face.

Grimmjow flinched slightly, but he didn't back down, didn't even reply. That, to Ichigo, was the last straw. Gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed the front of Grimmjow's t-shirt and shook him. To add insult to injury, Grimmjow let him. His broad frame jerked in time with Ichigo's violent movements, his eyes never leaving Ichigo's eyes. The glint of regret was there, but he was just letting Ichigo manhandle him like he no longer cared about his own pride. Ichigo's chest seized up; it hurt, it really did. Ichigo could deal with a screaming, raging Grimmjow., but _this_ — this unmoving, silent creature in front of him, he could barely recognize it. Grimmjow had shut him out, drawing a line between them that he could not break. That line was called Renji.

"You coward!" Ichigo screamed. "You're a selfish coward!" How could Grimmjow do this to him? To them? Was Renji so important to Grimmjow that he would rather sacrifice his own happiness, and Ichigo's happiness, for him?

But even as Ichigo screamed, he knew inside that it was too late. They should've talked about this before it came to this, he should've pushed harder for them to talk to Renji before the pressure and guilt got to them and broke them.

* * *

Grimmjow stared at the furious teenager in front of him and clenched his teeth. His ears were taking everything in — _coward, selfish, useless, pussy_. Ichigo was truly on a rampage now, throwing out words that even he hadn't used before. He relaxed his body and let the slimmer boy shake him. If this would help soothe Ichigo's anger, he would happily oblige even though it really hurt.

"I thought you were a braver, tougher man but it looks like I'm wrong!" Ichigo was saying.

Grimmjow felt his hackles rise, but he fought them down. Ichigo was right after all. Still, the words hurt, and he couldn't help but tighten his fists. Couldn't the idiot tell that this was even more difficult for him? Did Ichigo think that he _wanted_ this to happen?

He never should've given in, he should've had more self control and not let his own selfishness lead him to betray his one true friend who was practically his brother. He never should've let his guard down. God, he wanted nothing more than to pounce on Ichigo and take him right there and then, but couldn't Ichigo see that he couldn't do this anymore? Why did Ichigo have to tempt him like this? Even now, as he was red in the face and trembling with anger, Ichigo looked just as alluring—

Suddenly, he heard someone laughing. Grimmjow cracked open his eyes — when did he close them? — and looked at Ichigo in confusion. Then he realized that one of his arms was raised in front of him, his hand balled tightly into a fist. Somehow, while he was battling his inner demons, his body must've unconsciously responded to the raging war between his urge to pull Ichigo back into his arms and his urge to push him away. Now, it simply looked like he wanted to hit the boy. With a start, he realized that that must be what Ichigo was thinking.

"No, wait—" Grimmjow started to say, but he was cut off by more laughter. Then, before he could explain himself further, the laughter abruptly stopped, and he found himself staring into a pair of narrowed brown eyes.

"Get out," Ichigo whispered.

Despite the boiling rage on Ichigo's face, Grimmjow saw the disappointment and disbelief in the boy's eyes. That hurt even more than words ever could, and he wanted to explain, wanted to tell Ichigo that he would never hurt him like this. Then it dawned on him that he had already hurt Ichigo by walking away. Despite his promise to himself that he would never hurt the boy, he had.

Why did he always end up doing something worse by trying to do something right? Why was he so good at breaking things?

He should leave, leave now before he made things worse. Grimmjow turned around and ran down the stairs and onto the street.

* * *

Grimmjow barely made it; he reached the toilet just in time. He retched, spilling his breakfast into the toilet. He had barely eaten since leaving the hospital last night, though; soon there was nothing left to throw up, and he started dry heaving.

He'd done it — he'd cut his ties with Ichigo, he was not betraying Renji's trust anymore. In the back of his mind, he knew he already had, but he told himself that at least he had _stopped_. He should be feeling much better now, his conscience should be clearer now. So why wasn't it?

His mind must've shut down not long after that, because when Grimmjow opened his eyes again, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, and the sour aftertaste of vomit was so strong that he gagged. He staggered to his feet and dragged himself to the shower, turning the water on full blast without bothering to take his clothes off. His t-shirt clung to his body as it became soaked in the steaming hot water; it felt so good on his stiff, aching muscles.

Slowly, he stripped off his clothes and flung them onto the tiled floor, not caring that he was making a mess. He rested his forehead on the wall and willed himself to relax. What's done was done; he had fucked up royally. He didn't know if he would ever be able to act the same in front of Renji again, and he sure as hell did not have any form of friendship left with Ichigo. He'd first wronged one by caring about the other, and then proceeded to wrong the latter by caring about the former. Now, instead of hurting one person, he'd hurt two.

He was rinsing soap off his body when he heard loud, insistent knocking. He turned off the shower and listened. There it was again — someone was knocking on his front door like they wanted to break it down. It was probably Renji forgetting his key again.

Grimmjow's head throbbed. He was definitely not ready to see Renji right now — trusting, innocent Renji who had no clue that he'd been stabbed in the back. But what choice did he have?

"Coming," he groused, hastily throwing a towel around his waist. His hair was soaking wet and crafting rivers down his body, but he ignored it and trudged grudgingly to the front door and yanked it open.

* * *

When the door opened and Grimmjow appeared, everything that had been on the tip of Ichigo's tongue withered up and died. His well-rehearsed speech disintegrated at the sight of the dripping wet, half-naked man of his dreams standing in front of him.

Ichigo had thought long and hard before coming here. He was hurt and angry that Grimmjow had chosen Renji over him, but after calming down, he finally realized that screaming obscenities had not been the right way to go. He would be extremely stupid to simply let Grimmjow walk away like this.

No, they were going to be the adults they were and _talk_ through this shit.

Now, looking at Grimmjow's haggard appearance, Ichigo suddenly remembered everything he'd said to Grimmjow — all those hurtful things that he'd said out of spite, all those names that he'd call him…

"I'm sorry," Ichigo blurted. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm—"

Before he could finish his rambling apology, he was suddenly crushed against a hot, wet chest. He could feel Grimmjow's heartbeat, the pulse strong but increasing in pace. The iron grip around him was so tight it almost hurt, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Grimm," he mumbled. This was good, this was a good start.

"No, I'm sorry." Grimmjow's low rumble seemed to vibrate through his chest, and Ichigo pulled the boy closer, pressing their bodies together.

Ichigo tilted his head up to make up for their two-inch height difference and tugged on Grimmjow's lower lip, bringing him into a kiss. A growl sounded from the back of Grimmjow's throat as he slid his tongue between Ichigo's lips, hungrily savoring the mouth that he thought he'd never taste again. His hands slowly glided from Ichigo's back down along the boy's sides, his hips, and then they settled on Ichigo's butt.

Ichigo sighed when he felt Grimmjow's large, warm hands caressed him through his pants. He wanted to say "stop, we gotta talk", but his body scoffed at the idea. So he simply smiled against Grimmjow's lips and ground himself against the towel. Grimmjow groaned under his breath and reached behind Ichigo to lock the door.

Half-walking, half-stumbling, they somehow managed to make their way to the couch in Grimmjow's living room. Ichigo shoved the taller boy into the seat and climbed onto his lap. He licked along Grimmjow's lips, and then moved to his neck, licking and nipping along the sensitive skin there until he reached the junction between the neck and shoulder. He paused briefly to leave a bite, drawing a startled hiss from Grimmjow, then he continued, sliding off Grimmjow's lap, teasing and laving with his tongue. Grimmjow tasted strongly of soap, but Ichigo didn't care. He went on, placing soft kisses over the broad, well-toned chest, over the ridges on the taut abdomen. Fingers began to tangle in his hair, and he could hear Grimmjow's breath getting harsher, quicker. He felt the muscles tense under his tongue as he went lower and lower. He came to the towel and started fumbling with the hastily formed knot. He peeled it open, creating just enough space for him to reach in and touch the burning hot skin underneath.

"Ah," Grimmjow gasped, sounding almost surprised.

Ichigo smirked and lowered his head. He blew on the tip, teasing Grimmjow and successfully wringing a groan from the teen, and then just as he was opening his mouth, the grip on his hair tightened abruptly. He yelped out loud in pain, his hand flying up to pry Grimmjow's fingers away. And then he realized that Grimmjow had frozen, his eyes wide open and staring at something right behind Ichigo. Swallowing nervously, Ichigo turned.

Renji was standing at the door, one arm raised with a large pizza box resting on his palm, the other hand, which was still clutching a bunch of keys, was on the door knob. For the longest time, the three of them simply stared at each other in silence; Renji's eyes flicked from Ichigo's face to Grimmjow's face, and then to Grimmjow's exposed body. The keys dropped to the floor.

Ichigo felt like the bottom of his stomach had given out. The pain in Renji's eyes was obvious even from a distance, Ichigo could only imagine what was going on in the redhead's mind.

"How could you do this to me?" Renji broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. He wasn't even looking at Ichigo, his eyes focused only on his best friend.

Grimmjow finally snapped out of his shock and covered himself with the towel. He stood up and opened his mouth. Ichigo would never know what Grimmjow was going to say because Renji was suddenly screaming. The pizza box was flung away and Ichigo caught snippets of swear words through the ear-splitting torrent exploding out of the redhead's mouth, and then he heard, "You wouldn't be standing here if it were not for me!"

It didn't make any sense to Ichigo, but Grimmjow flinched like he had been slapped in the face. He wanted to ask what Renji meant, then thought better of it, and then Renji suddenly stormed towards them looking like he was going to strangle his best friend. Acting on instinct, Ichigo threw himself between the two friends.

"It's _my_ fault! I'm the one who fell for him and dragged him into this! He didn't want to do this but _I_ made him do it!"

Renji stopped in his tracks. He looked stricken, his eyes darting between Grimmjow and Ichigo as if he was trying to decide who he wanted to hit first. And then, just as Ichigo thought he was about to pounce on them both, Renji turned around abruptly and walked stiffly out of the apartment, not even bothering to slam the door shut.

Their worst nightmare had just come true.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	10. Chapter 10

"What did he mean…when he said that you wouldn't be here…?" Ichigo asked carefully.

Grimmjow didn't reply; he remained seated on the couch, now fully-dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He massaged his temple with one hand, messing up his already-tussled hair, while pinching the bridge of his nose with the other.

Ichigo fidgeted, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for the blue-haired teenager to respond. It had been almost half an hour since Renji stormed out of the apartment. Ichigo had closed and locked the door, cleaned up the mess from the pizza box, and now all he wanted to know was what they were going to do next.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, during which Ichigo planted himself on the coffee table directly in front of Grimmjow, the silence was finally broken.

"We were seven at the time," Grimmjow said suddenly.

Ichigo swallowed the "huh?" that almost slipped from his tongue and waited for Grimmjow to elaborate on his seemingly random comment.

To his chagrin, Grimmjow's next sentence was just as random. "Did you know that I can't swim?"

"No," Ichigo replied anyway.

"When we were seven, we…our families took us to a country club one time," Grimmjow said, staring down at his hands. "We had these…float things on, and we were supposed to stay at the shallow end. But, uh, you know me."

Ichigo's stomach cramped. He could imagine what must've happened.

Grimmjow scratched the back of his head and went on, "Renji asked me not to go. Back then, he was a big wuss." He chuckled. "Anyway, I got into some trouble, one of my floats came off. I yelled for help but the adults couldn't hear me."

 _Shit._ For a moment Ichigo felt a stab of panic, but then he immediately kicked himself for being stupid. Grimmjow was here, so obviously things had ended well.

"The idiot came after me. He was shit in the water…okay, maybe a bit better than me, but still…" Grimmjow chuckled and rubbed his face. "He nearly killed himself in the process, but he managed to get his dad's attention by screaming his head off before he went under. They had to give him CPR."

Ichigo nodded, finally understanding now — why Grimmjow was so loyal to his red-haired friend, why he'd put Renji's happiness above his own, why Renji was so important to him.

"He has never brought it up before," Grimjow sighed. " _Ever._ Not after we came back from the hospital, not after any of the fights we've had over the years. Not even once, but just now…" He groaned into his palms.

After a pause, Ichigo left the coffee table and pushed Grimmjow back so that he had space to crawl onto the teen's lap. He held Grimmjow's face with both hands and stared into his ocean-blue eyes. "You'll get him back. _We'll_ get him back," he said firmly. "We screwed up, but if Renji's half the brother you are to him, he'll listen."

Grimmjow grimaced. "I should've told him," he mumbled regretfully.

"Yeah, well, a little too late for that," Ichigo said dryly. "I fucked up too. We made a mistake and like it or not, we gotta answer for it." He slid off of Grimmjow's thighs and pulled him to his feet.

That seemed to strengthen Grimmjow's resolve, and he picked up his jacket from the back of the couch. Shrugging it on, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

"C'mon, I know where he'd be."

* * *

Ichigo hopped off of Grimmjow's bike and removed his helmet. He had walked past this place before but had never really stopped to look — it was a wide, grassy slope next to the man-made river that flowed through Karakura. It was plain, pale green from the short grass that covered the ground like a carpet, but it was quiet and peaceful. He could see why Renji would pick this as his favorite spot, or as Grimmjow called it, his "Zen" spot.

"When he needs to be alone, he comes here," Grimmjow said confidently.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. He couldn't imagine Renji wanting to be alone very much; the Renji he knew couldn't stay away from people.

Grimmjow saw his look and grinned. "Yeah, doesn't happen very often. Usually only when he got dumped and was too embarrassed to face me." His smile faltered at the thought of their closeness, and then he frowned, more determined than ever to make things right again. He'd take it if Renji wanted to beat the crap out of him, but he wasn't going to walk away until this was solved. Why it took him so long to realize that this was what he should've done all along, he had no idea. Guess he was too busy playing the ostrich with its head buried in the sand.

Ichigo followed Grimmjow, who walked down the narrow dirt road that ran parallel to the river. Even from afar, he could see the unmistakable splash of crimson. Renji was spread out on his back near the river, his hands laced behind his head serving as a pillow. His hair wasn't in his regular ponytail; it fanned out from his face, long and messy, giving him the morbid image of lying in a pool of blood.

There was no way Renji didn't know they were there because the uneven ground and dry grass did nothing to dampen the sound of their footsteps, but he didn't acknowledge them. Grimmjow gave Ichigo a nod, then he approached his best friend. Ichigo decided to hang back for a little bit and remained on the dirt road, giving the two friends some privacy.

"Hey," Ichigo heard Grimmjow's low murmur. There was light scraping of feet, then Grimmjow sat down next to Renji, who was still lying on his back.

The greeting was met with silence, then, Renji suddenly sprang up with a growl and pounced on Grimmjow, knocking his friend over. Grimmjow hit the ground on his back and grunted in surprise. Before he could recover, Renji rolled on top of him and immediately went for his neck, gripping it and looking like he was going to strangle his friend to death.

With a cry of alarm, Ichigo sprinted over to Grimmjow's aid, but he slowed down when he got closer. Renji wasn't squeezing hard on Grimmjow's neck as much as he was shaking it, like he was throwing a tantrum and Grimmjow was a rag doll. Grimmjow winced as his back hit the ground repeatedly, but Ichigo could tell that Renji wasn't really putting his strength into it. So he stopped walking and just stood off to one side and watched the scene unfold.

Renji finally stopped after a while, then he rolled off of Grimmjow and threw himself on the ground, landing hard on his butt. He still looked pissed, but at least he wasn't yelling and snarling anymore as he had been for the past few minutes. Grimmjow remained on his back, tired and panting harshly from the tussle.

The whole thing was weird as hell, but from the look on Grimmjow's face, Ichigo had the feeling that this wasn't the first time they fought like this. Perhaps it was a good sign.

"How could you do this to me?" Renji asked, his voice still raised and slightly cracked from shouting so much.

Grimmjow sat up and croaked, sounding a little disoriented from being tossed around. "I'm sorry, Renji. I didn't mean to steal your—"

Renji cut him off. "Do you know how much it hurts to find out _this way_ that you're fucking Ichigo behind my back? _You!_ " Renji got to his knees and shoved Grimmjow, throwing the teen on his back again. " _You!_ The whole time I was fucked up you told me that you're _sorry_ , like you cared, and then I find out that you're _fucking him!_ How long has it been, huh? Huh?"

Grimmjow raised his arms to defend himself, but before he could begin to explain, Renji went off again. "Why didn't you _tell_ me? After all the shit we've gone through! You think that I can't handle it or something? Do you really think so little of me?"

Grimmjow propped himself up, a confused look on his face. "Wait, what?"

" _What_ what?" Renji yelled. "What do you mean what?" Then, as if he was too impatient to hear Grimmjow's response, he rambled on, "I _can't believe_ you hid this from me! And _you!_ " He turned to Ichigo, eyes narrowed and fierce. " _You!_ Why can't you just say that you like him instead of giving me that _let's just be friends_ bullshit? Are you ashamed of him?"

"What?" Ichigo blurted. Now he was thoroughly confused.

"The fuck's wrong with you two? Did you guys fuck so much that you've gone stupid?" Renji asked, glaring from Grimmjow to Ichigo.

"Wait…" Ichigo said, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What _exactly_ are you mad about?"

"Do you really need me to spell it out for you?" Renji gave him a weird look, then he mumbled something under his breath before saying, " _You_ — " He pointed to Grimmjow. "— don't trust me, and _you_ —" He turned to Ichigo. "You lied to me."

Ichigo swore he heard Renji mumbled something akin to "and Ishida said I'm dumb", but he couldn't have, because Ishida and Renji had no connection whatsoever.

Grimmjow had been silent since his "wait, what?" question, but now he suddenly laughed; his deep, gravelly laughter sliced through Renji's indignant huffing and Ichigo's stunned silence.

"It's not funny!" Renji snapped, narrowing his eyes.

The look of annoyance on Renji's face was too precious, and Ichigo burst into laughter, his softer voice joining Grimmjow's and echoing through the small clearing. Renji's face grew confused.

"What the hell's so funny?" he asked indignantly.

Grimmjow leaned forward and grabbed his best friend's shoulders. "How stupid we've been, _that_ 's what," he said, a grin beginning to stretch across his face.

* * *

"You guys are idiots, you know that?" Renji sighed, rolling his eyes first at Grimmjow, and then at Ichigo.

Ichigo grinned. He hadn't stopped grinning in the past ten minutes, and his cheeks were starting to ache. But he didn't care the slightest bit. In fact, if his mouth could go any wider, it would.

As it turned out, the reason Renji lost it _was_ because he felt betrayed — except, it wasn't in the way that he and Grimmjow had been been worried about all along, but because he took his best friend's lack of faith and trust in him as an insult.

Granted, Renji did admit that his first thought was that they had cheated on him, but once he left the apartment, when the initial shock ebbed, what really made his blood boil was that his best friend didn't have the decency to tell him about it. Grimmjow had betrayed their brotherhood, as he put it, despite everything they had gone through.

Now, Ichigo couldn't help but laugh at themselves. All that secrecy and fear and worry had been for naught, and had only existed because none of them had been brave enough to be honest. They'd all let their egos get the best of them, and it had come around and kicked them in their sorry asses.

"If you ever, _ever,_ pull this stunt again, I _will_ beat the crap out of you," Renji warned, glaring pointedly at Grimmjow. Then, to Ichigo's chagrin and amusement, the redhead went on to poke his best friend in the chest and said, "And if you _ever_ break Ichigo's heart, I will _hunt you down_ personally and cut your balls off!"

Grimmjow made a face, and Ichigo started laughing. Renji turned to him immediately and wagged a finger at him. "The same goes for _you_ ," he said. Unfortunately for the redhead, the playful glint in his eyes dampened his valiant effort to look stern.

Ichigo opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment, the sunlight caught the pendant hanging on Renji's necklace and it flashed, causing Ichigo to flinch. Ichigo frowned, cringing inwardly as he recalled the obscene silver penis. Then, he stared. His eyes widened, and he stared, and stared, and stared some more, until Renji finally noticed his expression and looked down at his own chest. The redhead's face immediately flushed pink.

Grimmjow caught the exchange and lunged forward to grab his friend's necklace. "What's this?" he asked, staring at the pendant in his palm. It was an interesting design — a five-pointed star set against a small circle, the outlines thin and a metallic silver-blue. It was a surprisingly elegant piece of jewelry that looked completely out of place amongst Renji's garish wardrobe.

Renji tried to stuff it back into his shirt, but by then, Ichigo had recognized it. He'd seen this design before — on the wrist of a certain lab partner of his.

"Ishida?" Ichigo asked, his mouth beginning to twitch as the implication of this discovery slowly sank in.

"Ah hah!" Grimmjow yelled, giving Renji a big shove on the head that sent the redhead tumbling over his side. "Now _who's_ keeping a secret?"

"It's not…not what you think!" Renji sputtered, finally able to tuck his necklace into his t-shirt.

If the color on Renji's face was any indication, it was most definitely what Ichigo was thinking.

Any lingering awkwardness and tension between the three of them dissolved as Grimmjow tackled Renji again, sending them both rolling across the grassy slope. Ichigo sighed happily and lay down on the short, prickly grass. A torrent of obscenities later, Grimmjow and Renji threw themselves on the ground next to Ichigo, panting and laughing as they stretched out their sore muscles.

Ichigo stared up at the cloudless, baby blue sky and smiled. The color reminded him of Grimmjow's hair, and he couldn't help but turn to his side to look at the teen, only to catch a pair of equally blue eyes that happened to be looking at him too. Grimmjow winked, sending a shiver through Ichigo's limbs.

No, friendships were not always easy, and definitely weren't always pretty, but they will be alright. Ichigo was sure of it.

**~END~**

* * *

**Thank you for following this story, and thank you for supporting me throughout it all. Hopefully this ending does not seem abrupt - this _is_ how I've planned for it to end all along. I'm a sucker for happy endings, and I think it shows. :p**


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